Rolling In The Deep
by SpyKid18
Summary: It was only natural that she ran into him in the exact spot they first met.  ST BERRY
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: New story! So my plan is for this to be a multi-chapter fic. Let me know your thoughts after the chapter! This is based on spoilers I've read about Jesse and Rachel's reunion. Hope you enjoy!**

Don't Look Back

It was only natural that she ran into him in the exact spot they had first met. She was looking through music, Mr. Schue's latest assignment buzzing in her ears as she searched for the perfect piece. She had something to prove after Regionals. She had shown that she could carry the team, as she had countless times, but now she had to keep the momentum.

"Rachel Berry."

The voice was like a lost memory, one that she had all but forgotten yet recognized the moment it was unearthed. She didn't dare turn, every muscle in her body tensing as she kept her eyes trained on the music. Maybe if she pretended that she didn't hear him he would leave her alone. He knew her well, after all, and must be able to read that the feigned ignorance was in fact quite deliberate.

She knew him too, though, and he would not pass up an opportunity like the one before them. He called out her cold shoulder as he moved beside her and said, "Your tensed shoulders gave you away."

Looking up at him in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner she said, "Hello Jesse."

He flashed her a grin and then turned his attention to the music in her hand. He took it from her, the book slipping from her grasp as easily as her self-control. Already she could feel her hands begin to tremble and she shoved them in the pockets of her dress as she looked to the side. That would not do, though. No, she was not the one who should look away. She was not the one who was in the wrong. He was, and with that thought she forced her gaze up toward him, setting her face into a hard look of steel as he smiled down at her.

That damn smile.

Even with all her steel it made her stomach flip.

"Adele," he said. "Let me guess, strong female artists?"

She shook her head at his guess as to the assignment and told him, "Power ballad."

"Which song were you thinking?"

It amazed her how quickly they had fallen into the same old pattern, and frightened her how easily she had accepted it. She was supposed to be angry. She was supposed to resent him and she made a quick song choice to reflect this as she told him, "_Rolling in the Deep._"

"An admirable choice," he said, nodding his head appreciatively. "Not to mention fantastic vocals."

"It's the perfect choice," Rachel replied haughtily.

A sliver of a smile and he said, "How about a test run?"

It was like a mirror image of the first time they met, him leading her over to the piano. The mirror had cracks, though. She was no longer the innocent, wide-eyed girl with his name just waiting to drip from her lips. He had taken that innocence from her; piece by piece he had stripped her until she was completely bare.

He began to play, fingers moving seamlessly over the keys. He looked to her at the first verse's entrance and she felt her stomach clench. How could one simple look be so intimate?

_There's a fire burning in my heart_

_Reaching a fever pitch_

_And bringing me after dark_

_Finally I can see you crystal clear_

_Go and ahead and sell me out_

_And I"ll lay your shit bare_

_See how I leave with every piece of you_

_Don't underestimate the things that I will do_

_There's a fire staring in my heart_

_Reaching a fever pitch and bringing me after dark_

_The scars of your love _

_Remind me of us_

_Keep me thinking that we almost had it all_

He grabbed her entrance then, voice cutting into hers as he sang the second part of the bridge.

_The scars of your love_

_They leave me breathless_

_They had me thinking_

She wanted him to stop. The song was hers. It was her message to him, a message that shifted and changed when he lent his voice to it.

_We could've had it all_

_Rolling in the deep_

_You had my heart and soul_

_In your hands_

_And you played it to the beat._

She dropped off as he took a hold of the chorus again. It was almost cruel the way he threw the words at her. He had no right to be saying any of this, but then she remembered the look on his face after she dangled Puck and Finn in front of him. She remembered his words moments before the egg connected with her forehead.

_We could have had it all_

_Rolling in the deep_

_You had my heart and soul_

_In your hands_

He was too close. Everyone was watching them, and she felt an uncharacteristic urge to shrink away. All these people shouldn't be watching. This was too personal, too real. Couldn't they see that this was not a moment for prying eyes? The fight for power between them, the upperhand that she was beginning to think neither of them actually wanted, made her want to run. This was not how it was supposed to go. This was her song, not theirs.

_And you played it_

_You played it_

_You played it_

_You played it to the beat_

The music stopped and she could barely catch her breath. Perhaps the song had been a poor choice because with him beside her and the lyrics playing in her ears, it dredged up all sorts of memories that she had fought to forget. It had taken a lot for her to move on. There were many cries in the showers, many deleted iTunes songs. She could never listen to Lionel Richie's _Hello_ again, not without becoming unbearably sour. All of this she had done to erase whatever he had done to her, and for a while it had appeared to work.

He licked his lips, preparing to speak, and she thought to herself, _If only forgetting this boy was easy as deleting a few songs_.

She hopped from the bench before he could speak. She didn't want to hear what he was going to say. It would only upset her more. In fact, _anything_ he did would only upset her more and she already felt on the verge of tears. With that in mind, she left without a word. Adopting a sort of tunnel vision, she told herself to just keep moving forward.

Forward motion. Away from him. Away from the past. She would not look back, not when he called out to her, not even when every bit of her wanted to take just one more glance, catch one more image to add to the rest that she would promptly forget. Escaping as quickly as she could from the music store, she didn't look back.

If she did, she would have seen that she left her purse.

**A/N: So, should I continue?**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am so happy with your response to this! This story is becoming somewhat of an obsession for me, which is good for you because it means frequent updates! Hope you enjoy this :D**

Stuck In The Middle

The fact that she didn't realize she was without her purse for nearly the entire walk home spoke volumes as to her mental state. As she rounded the corner of Wabash and Harrison, panic clutched at her chest as she realized her small wristlet was in fact not on her wrist. Immediately she was taken with visions of dark sorts of people rifling through her personal effects. A particularly lurid image of some stranger using her lip balm crossed her mind and she turned on her heel quickly, nearly running back to the music store.

"I'm sorry but no one turned in a purse," the woman at the store told her, although her face betrayed her absolute dismissal of Rachel's predicament. She knew what it looked like, an irresponsible teenager unable to look after her own belongings. If only the woman knew the truth, how _adult_ the true problem was.

"It was a wristlet," Rachel clarified, hoping it would shed some sort of light on someone's forgotten act of kindness. Still the woman shook her head as she told Rachel again, "Sorry, no one has turned in anything today. You can take a look around the store if you'd like, though."

Rachel nodded glumly, stepping away from the counter and beginning to half-heartedly comb the store for the wristlet. She knew she wouldn't find it. Jesse St James had been the mark that today would be a day she would like to forget, and she knew her poor luck would absolutely forbid something as minute as finding her purse lend some positive glow to the day. After a few tracks around the store she came to the conclusion that her wristlet was forever gone, and she headed home.

* * *

><p>She took the long way back home, letting the steady drum of her feet against the pavement drive her into a near comatose state. She forced herself not to think. She wouldn't dwell on what had happened with Jesse, or how she was now out fifty dollars and a relatively new iPhone. She would not think, only focus on the droning sound of her footsteps.<p>

The front door was open and she stepped in, closing the door softly behind her. She wanted to slip in unnoticed, disappear to her room before her parents could smother her with questions. Parents always seem to have bionic hearing at the least opportune moments, though, and hers were no different.

"Sweetie?" She grimaced for a moment but forced a partial look of brightness as she went into the kitchen and greeted her father. The smile didn't exactly reach her eyes, however, when she noticed her wristlet resting on the table. There was only one explanation for how the wristlet she left at the music store would find its way back to her house. There was only one, curly-haired explanation.

"My wristlet," she said awkwardly, trying to think of a way to not have to bring up Jesse and yet still sort through the business at hand. Her efforts were futile though, purely for the fact that Jesse had to have gone to the door, he wasn't the ding-dong-ditch sort, so the secret was out. Still she opted for vague. "I left that at the music store," she finished lamely.

"Jesse drove it over," her father said. "I didn't know you were meeting him."

"I wasn't," she answered. "We just ran into each other. At the music store."

"Nice boy," her father remarked. She nodded blindly, hoping the conversation would end there. It would seem to odd to most that her parents would be so fond of Jesse, but with Rachel giving little to no explanation as to why she was dating Jesse one day, and Finn the next, all her parents had to go by was memory. And if memory served correct, Jesse was wonderful with parents.

"Yes, the nicest," she echoed. "Well, I'm going to head upstairs. I have a lot of work to do."

"Alright sweetie." His attention returned to whatever task he had been attending to prior to arrival, and she moved past him, grabbing her wristlet from the table as she passed. Up the stairs and she closed the door securely to her bedroom.

Alone at last.

She opened her purse, looking for some sign of him. Just as he would not pass up the opportunity to sing with her at the music store, he also would not pass slipping some memento of his into her purse. It was like something out of those old movie musicals they used to watch together, beautiful and thrilling in its sheer theatricality. For this alone, she knew there would be something.

The purse appeared untouched. There had been no rifling, no overriding curiosity that surely would have taken her if she were in the same place. A purse was such a fascinating thing, each item placed in it deliberately, the general make-up of the clutter both intentional and serendipitous. If she hadn't been exact in her placement of her phone, she wouldn't have noticed that it was in the wrong pocket. She pulled it out, fingers hungrily scrolling and tapping.

_Call Me_

She nearly passed it up, having to scroll back past Chris and Callie to see it. Of course he would program "Call Me" into her numbers. It was about as transparent as a billboard. He also knew that she wouldn't be able to resist the implicit demand. Her thumb hovered over the call button as she considered her options.

Perhaps it was time to show him that she _had_ changed. She wasn't the girl he had left last year, easily directed by goading messages and flippant grins. She had changed. She was stronger and braver. Since Finn she had come to terms with herself, found the person she was outside of a relationship. She didn't have to call, play her part in this ridiculous farce.

She pressed call anyway.

He picked up on the first ring and said, "Hello?"

"You're not supposed to go through people's things, you know."

A deep laugh and then he said, "I didn't know if you would call."

"Of course you did," she answered shortly. "A _Call Me_ shrouded in mystery?"

"Good point," he conceded. "And I didn't look through your purse. I simply took out your phone."

"Next time you plan a whole switch and bait like this, make sure to remember which pocket you took the phone from."

"Maybe I put it in the wrong pocket on purpose," he said. "It peaked your interest after all, didn't it?"

She pressed her lips into a frown, seeing that he had a point and that the wrong pocket thing was probably all part of the ruse. He was too slick for his own good. "Stop frowning," he said, somehow reading her expression from the prolonged silence. "I'm not frowning," she lied. "I am simply taking pause."

His smirk was evident as he said, "Whatever you say, Rachel."

She drew the pause out for a moment more and then said, "By the way, thanks for dropping off my wristlet."

"I tried to get your attention when you left," he said.

She remembered him calling after her and how she had pointedly ignored him. "Oh, weird..I didn't hear anything."

His tone told her that she wasn't fooling anyone as he replied, "Sure. Well, I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing. Today was a joy, as always."

"Yeah." She had expected him to do something in this phone call. That was what would have made sense. She had fallen for the trick, after all. She had followed the bread crumbs and made the call, yet all she got was slightly charged conversation? She didn't actually know if she wanted more, but she _expected_ it.

He said good bye and then she was greeted with a dial tone. Bringing the phone back to her lap, she crossed her legs and dragged her finger along the screen. The option to delete the number flashed clearly on the screen.

_Delete Contact?_

It was like touching a hot stove. She wanted to do it, but feared the burn. After several minutes of staring at the screen, she made her decision and dragged her finger along the screen. When the letters cleared, she quickly typed in the contact's new name. Mephistopholes.

She pressed enter and chuckled for a moment at her genius. Yes, she hadn't deleted him but she had literally renamed him the devil. There was a certain poetic justice in it, and she chose to focus on that instead that she had actively chosen to keep his number and whatever ramifications that held. Content with her handiwork, she clicked the phone off and slipped it in her pocket.

**A/N: Leave some feedback. Jesse would want you to ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Third chapter, finally! I got distracted by the St Berry prom, so this one took a bit of a back seat. It's back though and the story really begins to roll with this chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

Misalliance

The phone buzzed repeatedly, a sort of pointed response to her continued ignorance. She was too busy for texts, though. Nationals was in less than a month, and with each day that passed New Directions seemed to become less prepared. They needed _the_ song. At every competition, there was that one song that carried a group. It was what people remembered, talked about. Regionals it had been _Get It Right_. Last year, it was _Faithfully_. This year it was…

Here was the problem.

They didn't have a song. They didn't have anything besides a jumbled mess of ideas and overstated opinions. Mercedes wanted to throw in R & B and Puck was adamant that rock was the only solution. Schue had suggested she write another song, but that was an idea she quickly shot down, though not for lack of ability or material. She had a lot of material, too much. There were pages of angry Alanis Morisette lyrics, and sappy Burt Bacarach. Depending on the day and what contact she had with a certain male the marks of her pen changed.

Her phone buzzed again.

"Berry, your phone is on crack or something," Santana huffed, grabbing the bejeweled phone from the piano. "You're getting more texts than me. Clearly something is wrong."

Rachel looked over at Santana, sucking in air sharply as she noticed her phone in the Latina's hand. She barreled forward, moving to grab the phone from her hand when Santana pulled it out of reach and said, "Uh uh, what is on this that you don't want me to see?"

"Nothing," Rachel said unconvincingly. "Just give me my phone, please?"

"Mephistopholes," Santana read from the screen. "Your last, like, eight texts are from him."

"You have the devil in your phone?" Brittany asked slowly, her eyes wide.

Rachel took one moment to ponder how exactly Brittany would know what Mephistopholes meant, doubting the girl read Faust in her spare time, but then turned her attention back to more pressing matters. Like how Santana had an all too familiar gleam to her eye and her lips were pulled into one of her most devious smirks.

"Santana-"

"What the hell did this person do to get in your shit book?"

Rachel noticed Mercedes shift beside her and one glance told her that she was found out. Of what she wasn't entirely sure, but Mercedes' nostrils flared as she said, "Call it Santana."

"No," Rachel said immediately. Santana looked at her suspiciously and asked, "Why not, Berry? Who is this guy, huh?"

"It's no one," Rachel said firmly. "Now, can we please get back to finding our song?"

"Dial it," Mercedes said, giving Rachel a look as Santana nodded and pressed the call button. Rachel hoped he wouldn't answer. At least that would give her a chance to explain, or talk herself out of whatever she had somehow gotten herself into. But, he had texted her only a few minutes before and he answered his phone with characteristic promptness.

"A call," he said. "For what do I owe this pleasure?"

Santana's eyes widened at first, but then narrowed as she hissed, "Hello St. Douche."

Rachel winced, no doubt mirroring Jesse's own reaction. "Santana, what are you doing with Rachel's phone?"

"What are _you_ doing calling her?"

"I believe we are friends," he answered.

"Acquaintances," Rachel interjected hurriedly. Sure, they had texted pleasantly for the week or two after the music store, but she would hardly call them friends. This was the first time since that day that they were actually speaking, hearing the other's voice. That hardly constituted friends.

"Ah Rachel, you're there too?" Jesse asked. "I imagine I'm on speaker phone? Who else is there? I like to know my audience."

"Luckily Puck isn't here," Santana remarked snidely. "He'd smash your face in."

"Oh, well then I'm very happy Puckerman is absent considering the nature of this exchange. I know Rachel is quite fond of her phone." Rachel couldn't help but smirk at that illustration, imagining Puck drive his fist into her phone. She had to agree with Jesse, she wouldn't like her phone becoming a casualty.

"Why are you two talking again?" Santana demanded. "You'd think you being a total douche last year would pose problems."

"Can we talk about this among ourselves?" Rachel asked desperately. She had yet to actually have this conversation with Jesse and thought that it would be rather poor form to conduct it over the phone. Especially over speaker phone.

"You've forgiven him," Santana accused, disbelief dripping from every word. "It's official, you are the stupidest person I know."

Beside her Brittany snickered.

Rachel went to respond, a biting remark poised on the tip of her tongue, but a voice emanating from her slim phone interrupted her. "Whatever is between Rachel and I is exactly that."

"What?' Santana asked snippily.

"Exactly what I said," he answered. "Between Rachel and I, meaning none of your, Brittany, Tina, or Mercedes' business. Now, it's been lovely chatting with you ladies but I have to be going. Good bye, girls. Rachel."

They were met with a dial tone and Rachel had a sudden urge to bury her face in her hands. If she couldn't see them, maybe they would ignore her, let her drown in her embarrassment and let her be.

No such luck.

"Tell us everything," Mercedes said.

"There's nothing to tell," Rachel held, shaking her head. "I swear, nothing is going on."

"He ruined our chances of winning Regionals last year. He will _not_ do the same thing to Nationals this year," Tina huffed.

"It's not like that," Rachel told them. To be honest, she didn't know what it _was _like, but it wasn't like before. "We just ran into each other in the music store."

"Like last time?" Santana asked pointedly.

"No," Rachel sighed. "I mean, _yes_ but it's not the same."

"Really? Because it sounds exactly the same."

"How long have you been talking?" Mercedes asked, setting her with her trademark you-better-not-lie look. Rachel met her eyes levelly and told her, "Two weeks. Not a day more. And it was not talking, just texting."

"How long is he in town?" Mercedes asked. Rachel didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that Mercedes assumed she knew. Her feelings were similarly conflicted that she did in fact know. "One week more. It's his Spring Break."

"One week," Mercedes repeated. "Convenient considering Nationals is in two weeks."

"He's not a spy," Rachel sighed.

"You can't see past the hair and dimples," Santana sniped. "So you, Berry, are no judge of character."

"I actually agree with Rachel," Mercedes said. "Two weeks you said he was here, and it's been only texting?" Rachel nodded. "And he only has one more week here. Even he can't carry out a scheme in only one week."

Santana snorted. "Amateur, but you have a point. So, why is it convenient that he's here? Besides being a distraction for Berry."

"He is not a distraction!" Rachel huffed.

"It's convenient," Mercedes said, "because despite the dude being a jerk most the time, you can't say he's not talented. And we still don't have a song."

"No," Rachel said immediately, the word slipping from her mouth. It was too late, though. Santana had grabbed her phone and dialed the now familiar number. Again he was on speaker phone and she shifted uncomfortably as it clicked on and Santana immediately said, "We have a proposition for you."

"No, I will not go to Breadstix with you."

"Keep dreaming, St James," Santana purred. "You are going to help us find a song for Nationals. And then, I promise not to go all Lima Heights on your ass for last year."

"Go Lima Heights on my ass," he repeated, the smile evident in his voice. "What does that entail, exactly? I like to know all my options."

"Trust me, St James, you do not want to cross me."

"If I were to help you with Nationals, what's in it for me?"

"Let me put it to you this way, St James. Winning Nationals means pretty much the whole freaking world to your little former flame here." Rachel audibly scoffed but Santana silenced her with her hand. "So, if I were you I would help us."

The room was silent for a moment until he asked, "What can I do?"

Santana's lips pulled into a slow grin as she said, "Now, that's more like it. We'll meet tomorrow at three. Rachel's house. Don't be late."

"I won't."

"Good. And oh, and by the way, did you know that you're The Devil in Rachel's phone?"

"Wha-" Santana clicked the phone off, smiling deviously as she handed the phone back to Rachel with a deceptively chipper, "There you go."

"You didn't have to tell him that, you know."

"I know," she answered simply. "So, tomorrow at your house the work begins."

"Should we tell the boys?" Rachel asked, not fully understanding the looks of disbelief she received. Tina shook her head and said, "Are you crazy Rachel? Can you imagine Finn or Puck accepting help from Jesse?"

"Well, what are we going to tell them?"

"Nothing," Santana said. "We'll meet with Jesse for this week. He'll work his magic and then we will go into Glee with our song. End of story."

Santana made it all sound so simple, but Rachel wasn't so sure. Yes, Santana was correct in saying that the song choice would be easy. Knowing Jesse he would find them the right song within minutes. End of story, though? Far from it. She thought of how Santana had baited him. She was the bait and he willingly took it. No, the song would not be the end of the story. Rachel feared it was only the beginning.

**A/N: And now the basic storyline of this has been set-up! Hope you enjoyed :D Please leave feedback!**

**Also, if you have not checked out my St Berry Prom story, what are you waiting for? A Night To Remember. It's good ol' St Berry fluff.**


	4. Chapter 4

**You all wanted a longer chapter. Well, I'm giving you a long ass chapter! lol LOTS happens in this. Hope you enjoy!**

Meetings

"Guys, Nationals is in two weeks. We need to come up with something. Now think, there has to be something that we're missing!" Mr. Schuester paced in front of the piano, running one hand through his hair. His newest side-kick, Holly Holiday, lounged on the piano's seat and turned languidly toward the club as she said, "What your crazed coach is trying to say is that the answer is right in front of you. It's probably so obvious that you'll laugh when you think about it. Any takers?"

"Don't worry," Santana said unexcitedly from her chair, not even bothering to look up as she spoke. Studying her nails she said, "The girls have it figured out."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Finn asked dejectedly. He crossed his arms over his chest with a banner look of discontent. Santana only smirked. "Hudson, it means exactly what it sounds like. We are going to solve this. So, no worries. Let's just sing another Journey song and you can awkwardly stalk around the room like you usually do in an attempt to appear sexy. Business as usual."

Despite Rachel's former undying love for Finn Hudson, she had to laugh at that remark.

"What do you mean the girls will figure it out?" Puck pressed, leaning forward in his seat. "I know a Santana scheme when I hear one."

This caught Santana's attention and she looked over at him with a withering look and sighed, "If that were true Puckerman, you would have never cheated with me last year. Because it was clearly a power play." He scowled. "And there is no scheme. Why _we_-" she gestured to the girls-"are going to find the song has a perfectly logical explanation. We have the prodigy." Beside her Brittany slowly raised her hand. Santana gave her one strange look and shook her head, "I mean we have Rachel."

"Technically Rachel is too old to be a prodigy," Holly pointed out from her perch on the bench. "But you have a point."

"Good, then it's decided," Santana announced, but she had the good sense to look to Schuester for approval. He deferred to Rachel and she nodded curtly. Yes, she could find them a song. _Correction:_ Her and Jesse could find them a song.

Oh, the fine print on this one was problematic.

"Alright," Schuester said, nodding his head. "Good, um, I want you guys to report back to me by Friday."

"Easy peasy," Santana answered with a chesire grin.

* * *

><p>Rachel sat at the Lima Bean, picking nervously at her cuticle. She was not an anxious person. In fact, she was accustomed to being collected, completely in control. This newfound anxiety which made her pick at her formerly smooth cuticles, was something entirely new. And <em>he<em> was all to blame for it. He made her pick at her cuticles; toss and turn; sing angsty songs in the shower. Even her fathers had noticed. They had said, "You're singing more Alanis than normal, sweetheart. Everything okay?"

He was ruining everything. This was supposed to her year. The never-ending story of her and Finn had finally come to a close and she had taken control of her life. She had refocused, reprioritized. And then he came and shook everything up.

"Shit," she said under her breath, blood blooming at the base of her nail bed. She pressed a napkin to it, gnawing on her lip.

"Since when do you pick your cuticles?"

She looked up and smiled at him. "Hello Kurt."

"You're going to ruin your nails, you know."

"Nice to see you, too."

He grinned and sat down, reaching across the table to squeeze her one not bleeding hand. "So, what's up?"

"Okay, I need to talk through something with you. But you can't judge." Kurt frowned and said, "I already don't like the sound of this."

"I need someone to talk to," Rachel pleaded. "And I can't talk about this with people from the team because they're already too biased. And my dads are sort of oblivious in this area."

"Please don't tell me you're pregnant."

Immediately she bristled and snapped, "Why would you think that?"

"Well, New Directions has a track record."

"I am not pregnant," she assured him. "I've just been talking to Jesse."

"Oh my God," Kurt droned. "That's even worse."

"Worse than an impending pregnancy?"

"Um yeah," Kurt said. "At least babies don't throw eggs at you."

"They spit peas."

"Yes, but they don't _mean_ it."

"Okay, whatever!" Rachel said hurriedly, shaking her head. He went to say something else but she silenced him with one jerk of her hand. "You promised you would not judge. I just need you to listen."

"And I would agree to this why?"

"Because I am going insane," she said. She looked down at her finger, the blood dried at her cuticle. Pushing the napkin to the side she told him softly, "And I have no one else to talk with."

"Fine," he sighed. "Tell me."

She described how they met again. Rolling in the Deep. Sharp retorts. She told him all about Santana and the phone call. The ruse that she was becoming more and more determined would be the end of them all. Kurt nodded, doing relatively well at keeping a neutral visage. After she was finished he took a moment and said, "Well, I'll be damned."

"Huh?"

"Mercedes is right," Kurt said. "As far as I can tell, Jesse's intentions seem relatively genuine. Well, if you don't count him trying to get you back."

"He's not," Rachel said immediately, although the words sounded false even to her. "That would involve Jesse being able to actually experience emotion. Which we all saw wasn't true last year."

"Come on Rachel, you can't be that blind," Kurt said. "And as for last year, the guy was clearly into you. You just had Finn-Hudson-Goggles on."

"Then why did he screw me over?" she snapped, shaking her head. None of this made sense. In fact, nothing with him ever did and she was beginning to tire of the endless guessing. With Finn it had been easy. With Puck, even easier. This was too much for her.

"I don't know why he did what he did," Kurt said. "But I saw the way he looked after the whole _Run Joey Run_ debacle. He was crushed."

"He was acting," Rachel said, still not willing to let herself fall into the obvious. If she actually accepted that Jesse did care for her, it made everything that happened even worse. It was more of a betrayal if what they shared was real.

"Maybe," Kurt admitted. "But if he was, why is he helping you now?"

_Million dollar question_, she thought.

"Now, on to the important part of all of this," Kurt said, gaining her attention. She looked at him oddly and he said, "I want in on this meeting."

"You're not in New Directions," she said slowly.

"Yeah, but this sounds too good to miss."

"Fine," she sighed. "Jesse being there will make it weird enough. Might as well bring in more former competition."

Kurt grinned. "Is it bad that I'm excited for this?"

"Yes, and completely unfair."

While Rachel looked positively morose, Kurt was beaming as he clapped his hands together and announced, "This will be fun!"

* * *

><p>Wednesday.<p>

Most people referred to the hump of the week by that name, Rachel preferred to call it D-Day. That's what it was, after all. It was the day that would start everything. Jesse would be hurled back in her life, no longer just an occasional text and foggy dream. He would be sitting in her living room, his eyes scanning over pictures and furniture that were the make-up of her world. He would weed his way into her very existence again and then everything would fall apart before it came together. Because Jesse St James only brought destruction and chaos. She would be a fool to think otherwise.

She was nervous and it made her act strangely. The entire day she remained silent, drawing the questioning glances of the male counterparts of New Directions.

"You have nothing to add, Rachel?" Mr. Schuester asked in confusion. Her hands folded demurely on her lap, fingers folded under to hide her ragged cuticles, she shook her head. No, she had nothing to say. Only that Jesse St James would be in her living room in just a few hours and it scared her more than she could admit. But they wouldn't want to hear that.

"You're giving us away," Quinn said, standing beside Rachel at her locker after rehearsal.

"I'm just tired," Rachel lied.

"You're never tired. In fact, you're annoyingly perky."

"Whatever."

"Finn thinks something is going on," Quinn told her, shifting uncomfortably beside her. "He's going to come and talk to you."

Rachel knew about the delicate state of Quinn and Finn's relationship. She also noticed the way he looked at her during rehearsal and thought that it was probably a Herculean effort on Quinn's part to even tell Rachel this. Still, she couldn't help herself asking, "Does it bother you that he's going to talk with me?"

A crease formed between Quinn's eyebrows as she frowned. "Just don't ruin this for us, okay?"

Rachel felt a stab of guilt as Quinn walked away. She knew what it felt like to be goaded, baited. After a slight hesitation she called after her. Quinn didn't want to turn, that much was evident by the stiffness of her back, but she did anyway. "I done with him," Rachel told her.

Quinn smiled then, a bitter smile, and said, "Of course you are."

* * *

><p>Like clockwork, Finn appeared. He walked toward her at lunch, sitting opposite her. She thought of how just weeks ago this would have thrilled her. She would have been smiling into her salad, unable to stop herself from gabbling on about this or that. Now she was just sorry that his tall form was blocking the sunlight.<p>

"Hello Finn," she said properly, giving him a tight grin.

"I know something's going on."

"Nothing is going on," she said immediately, meeting his eyes levelly. "The girls are just taking on a little extra for Nationals."

"We should pick out the song together," Finn held. "That's how we've always done it."

"And look how well that's been turning out lately," she shot back. "We've come up with nothing, Finn. Just let us try this."

He studied her face while he stayed silent for just a moment. He was never good at reading her but even he could pick up that something was off. "You're not telling me something," he accused. "I can see it."

"Well, then you're just seeing things," Rachel answered. "Because I have nothing to hide." He wasn't convinced and she sighed, gathering her long hair in her hand and drawing it over her left shoulder. "You still don't believe me."

"No, I don't."

"Well, that's just too bad. I have nothing left to tell you that will convince you that I am telling the truth."

"Maybe it's because you're not."

Rachel frowned. "You should take your own advice, Finn. Because it seems like all your attempts to convince Quinn you love her aren't working either."

He had no response to that and she stabbed at her salad irritably, tapping her foot on her chair beneath the table. "If you don't mind, Finn, I'd like to finish my lunch alone."

He stood grudgingly, pushing the chair back into the table. She watched him leave and sighed softly. Finn would no doubt mention his concerns to Puck who would be much harder to drive away. Keeping Jesse a secret was not going to be easy.

* * *

><p>Kurt was the first to show up at her house, nearly bouncing with excitement. She hated him for being so damn happy about it all when she was one step away from locking herself in the bathroom and not coming out at all. She had decided that she didn't want to see Jesse. She didn't want to text him, either. She wanted him to go back to UCLA and be nothing but a bad memory, like before. That was how it was supposed to be, not him gallivanting around with his charm and innuendo.<p>

It was maddening the way he just waltzed back in without even bothering to check if it was alright with her. And it wasn't. Not a bit.

"Your hair is different," Kurt remarked, eyeing her deeper side part. "And don't even try to say you didn't do it for him."

"I didn't," she answered. Yes, he had always liked the deeper side part. And yes, she had thought of him momentarily as she brushed her hair out. But these were merely coincidences.

"You also have more perfume on," Kurt noted. "Could you be anymore obvious, Rachel?"

"Oh shut up," she huffed, dropping onto the couch.

"When is everyone else getting here?"

"Soon, I had them come earlier so that I can give them them talk." He raised his eyebrows in question. "You know, no verbal assault. No slaps from Santana."

Kurt smiled slightly. "You're protective."

"I just don't want anymore drama today than there has to be," Rachel supplied.

There was a knock on the door and she rose from the couch, scurrying over to open the door and reveal Quinn, Santana, and Brittany. Behind them she saw Mercedes and Tina climbing from Mercedes' mother's car. Santana pushed past Rachel into her house, looking around as she remarked, "I never thought the day would come when I would be in Rachel Berry's house. It's sort of nauseating."

Rachel chose to ignore the remark as she ushered Tina and Mercedes in. "Alright, I need to talk to you all before Jesse gets here. We all need to be nice, okay? He offered to help and it is only fair that we behave accordingly."

Santana leaned forward a bit and scrunched her nose as she said, "Berry, did you bathe in your perfume or something?"

Rachel glared at her and said, "Let's just all play nice. He'll be here any minute so, um, prepare yourselves."

"Prepare _yourself_," Santana answered. "You're the only one freaking out."

A sharp knock on the door and Rachel set her face into a steady look of cool indifference and walked over, opening the door to reveal none other than the man of the hour. He offered her an alarmingly warm smile, one that even reached his eyes, but all she gave in return was a stiff hello. His lips pressed into a smirk as he remarked, "Aren't we formal?"

"Would you like to come in?"  
>"Yes," he answered slowly. "That is the general idea. Can't help you from the stoop, can I?"<p>

She saw the stupidity of her question and stepped aside, blinking quickly as her cheeks flushed red. He sensed her embarrassment but had the good sense not to comment on it. Stepping into the living room he offered a proper hello to the rest of the group. Their only response was to stare.

"Tough crowd," he joked.

"Let's just get to work," Rachel said crisply, gesturing for him to sit on a kitchen table chair she had dragged in previously. He sat down after pulling a sheet of paper out of his pocket.

"I have some ideas," Jesse said. Rachel noticed that he was the only one not on the couch, sitting alone before all of them. It resembled a sort of firing squad, all of New Directions (plus the former member) squaring off against the obvious intruder. Rachel almost felt bad for him in that respect.

Almost.

"Let's hear them," Mercedes said.

He read a number of songs off, to which nearly everyone shook their heads. They were primarily Broadway and after the fifth song hailing from the stage Quinn asked, "Do you have anything not with jazz hands?"

He flipped the sheet of paper over and said, "This is actually my favorite. You guys did rock before and it worked. A mash-up of The Beatle's _Help_ and _We Can Work It Out_."

Kurt shook his head slowly as he thought through the arrangement. "You really are a genius," he said.

Jesse smiled contently at Kurt's comment, as if it were to no surprise to him, and then said, "It would take some work but it would be a showstopper."

"Meaning exactly what we need," Tina said, a slow smile spreading on her face. Around her, the rest of the girls began to talk among themselves. Above the din Jesse added, "And Rachel should take the lead."

"And why is that?" Santana snapped. "Despite you wanting to get back in her pants?"

Jesse didn't hesitate before logically stating, "Rachel has the best voice."

"He was never actually in my pants," Rachel interjected heatedly, turning on Santana who shot her a look and said, "Come on Berry, you had that whole talk with us last year. You're not kidding anyone."

Jesse's focus was pulled for a moment as he chuckled and asked, "You talked to them about me?"

"Besides the point," Rachel said dismissively.

"We _all_ have good voices," Mercedes pressed. "We should be highlighted, too. This isn't the Rachel Berry show."

Jesse went to argue further but Rachel leaned forward and said, "I don't want the lead, okay? We will divide it evenly." He looked at her strangely, stepping forward and grabbing her elbow as he pulled her from the couch and over to the side. Behind them the other girls talked among themselves.

"Rachel, what are you doing?"

"I don't want the lead," she repeated. "We share more now."

"Rachel-"

"They deserve to have leads, too."

"Yeah, maybe in practice but not at Nationals," he said. "Think about all of your greatest performances. They have been because of _you_ Rachel. _Don't Stop Believing. Don't Rain On My Parade_."

"Don't hog the spotlight," she finished levelly. "We're a team, Jesse. I want the solos spread evenly."

He frowned, clearly not wanting to budge but with a pointed jut of her chin he sighed and said, "Fine, it's your own funeral."

"Thank you."

He stepped back toward the group and said, "I need to rethink the song then. Rework the arrangement to accommodate all of your voices."

"Rachel is the best at arrangements. And she knows all of their voices better than they do," Kurt said from his perch on the couch, ignoring Rachel's pointed look of aggravation as the comment clearly led to Jesse saying, "Alright then, Rachel and I will work on that for our next meeting." He looked over at Rachel and asked, "Is that okay with you?"

"Fine," she answered tightly. "Perfectly fine."

Arranging a song took hours, particularly when blending a number of voices. Hours of work. Hours of Jesse.

As everyone filed out, Rachel jabbed Kurt's arm and said, "I should have never let you come."

"You'll thank me later," he said with a little wink. "The chemistry between you two? Off the charts."

"You've been with Blaine too long," Rachel griped. "He's made you all gushy. Do you not remember that Jesse is a soulless automaton?"

Kurt smirked and said, "Well, considering the hair and perfume, I'd say you don't."

**A/N: So, a lot happened in this. Let me know what you think in your review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: New chapter! LOTS of Jesse and Rachel. Lots, lots, lots! Hope you enjoy it :D**

Free Falling

Rachel stood before the mirror, hands hovering just above her hair as the inner battle of whether to wear her hair up or down waged. There had been a similar battle over mascara. Another for her skirt. She didn't know why she was making such a big deal out of this. Jesse had seen her countless times before, in various states of dress and disarray. She didn't need to impress him. In fact, she didn't want to impress him because that opened up the entire Pandora's Box of her feelings and _that_ was something she did not need.

Hair down, she decided, running a comb through it quickly and then leaving her bedroom. She closed the door firmly as she thought to herself, _Jesse will not be seeing this room_. They would remain in the living room where everything was casual and safe. Portraits of her and her fathers would look on from the mantelpiece, ensuring a productive and appropriate meeting. She just hoped Jesse would follow along.

She made her way into the living room and began moving this and that, not because anything needed to be actually shifted but more to keep her hands busy. She needed something to do while she waited for him. She couldn't just sit on the couch and twiddle her thumbs. She looked to the clock.

12:58.

He would be here in two minutes. Always one to be impeccably on time, she knew without one single doubt that at precisely one o'clock there would be a succinct knock on her front door and whatever horror she had gotten herself into would begin. She shivered at the thought.

One minute left and she began to reconsider her skirt. Looking down, she did notice that it was rather short. With pegs for legs, short skirts always proved flattering but she didn't know if a flattering outfit was appropriate for the occasion because flattering undoubtedly led to admiring and-

A knock.

He was early.

She took a moment to settle her breathing, settle her mind. Then with a curt nod, meant to convince herself more than anything that she was again in control, she stood and strode over toward the door. Completely in control, her hand still trembled as she pulled open the door.

Even after her seeing him at her doorway countless times, it still made her heart skip a beat. He smiled warmly, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his leather jacket. She stepped back without a word, gesturing for him to come in. Closing the door, she gave it another one of her curt nods.

Control, she was in control. She could do this.

"I still can't believe this place looks exactly like it did before," Jesse said, taking a moment to look around. He hadn't been able to do much purveying of his surroundings the last time he had been there, too busy fielding insults and veiled accusations.

"It's only been a year," she replied with a shrug. "Not much changes, I guess."

He looked up at her and asked, "Oh really?"

Immediately she caught on to the insinuation and answered, "Nope, not much at all. You're still presumptuous as ever."

"And you're still as stubborn," he added with a grin. "And, might I add, pining after the great Finn Hudson."

"I don't see how that is any of your business," she huffed, turning away from him only to turn back a moment later. The aforementioned stubbornness would not allow her to show him her back.

"Quinn Fabray was directing her daggers Wednesday at _you_ and not me. That could only mean one thing. Yet another triangle has formed, you and Hudson at the center as always."

Rachel felt her irritation spike. How dare he accuse her of having feelings for Finn again. He didn't know how he hurt her. How he claimed to love her and then went and ran back into the arms of an ex the moment the opportunity arrived. It was humiliating, watching him go from drama queen to prom queen. It was clear who the winner was there. Jesse knew none of this. In fact he knew nothing, not when it came to McKinley, yet he let on as if he knew everything.

"No biting retort," Jesse noted. "I struck a chord."

"I'm not pining after Finn," she told him bitterly. "Finn lied to me about sleeping with Santana. Then broke up with me and took up with Quinn not even a week after," she said. "I had to see them together every day and he did nothing to hide his happiness as I was completely miserable. Do you know how much it hurts to see someone you thought loved you be with someone else?"

Jesse's eyes were dark as he answered, "Yes, I do."

"It is unbelievably painful," Rachel said softly. "Which is why I will never pine after Finn Hudson again. Even when he suddenly decides that what we had perhaps was worth fighting for. That is why Quinn was glaring at me, because her perfect golden boy is now pining after me. Unfortunately for him, I've turned those feelings off permanently."

"I'm sorry," he said. She felt her anger ebb at the genuine regret in his voice. He felt bad for baiting her. She looked to his eyes then, the one place that she knew could possibly call his bluff, but there was nothing, only remorse for bringing up something that clearly upset her. She stepped away and turned, walking toward the kitchen.

Perhaps some things had changed.

* * *

><p>He didn't follow her. To be honest, he was too embarrassed. Of course he had to bring up Finn, the idiot that he was. It was just too easy. It was a thoughtless jab that he imparted as instinctually as some threw out compliments or questions. Perhaps it was the poetic nature of it all, her apparently still chasing after the same boy that had always been the unspoken third party of their relationship. Or perhaps it was something even more simple. There had been jealousy when he noticed the pointed glare of Quinn Fabray. It rose in his chest, a beast mainly asleep since things rarely mattered enough to awaken it, but this did. He read into Quinn's disgruntlement easily and found himself with the familar baffled feeling as to how someone as wonderful and unique as Rachel could fall for such a standard and boring boy.<p>

_He_ had been extraordinary, but it was never enough, not when compared to that standard and boring boy. Yes, in their times alone he could almost believe that she cared for hm. Her touches were genuine, her kisses too. And there was no denying the nearly cosmic connection when they both sang. At times like those, he almost believed she loved him like he did her.

And he _did_ love her.

Regardless of the motives behind their meeting and that last marked decision to return to Vocal Adrenaline, he had always loved her. After all, how could he not? She was the only person he had ever met who was possibly more talented than himself. Which was precisely why he left, mutilated her heart until he was sure there was not a shred of him left in it. The soulless automaton felt something strange beating in his chest, and it was easier to run than to face these sudden changes.

Still, he ended up running back.

He wished he hadn't said those things to her because she was spending an awfully long time in the kitchen and he couldn't bring himself to go and see what was the matter. In fact, he knew what was the matter. Him. He was causing her pain, something that was clear with every stilted exchange and trembling hand. But there was something else, too. It was a flicker in the back of her eyes, so faint that he nearly missed it. But it was there, and for that he would not give up.

There was a loud crashing noise and then the dulcet tones of her voice rising in a mélange of words so vile that it brought a smile to his face. He then remembered the crashing noise that preceded the lovely string of expletives and he rushed into the kitchen. She was crouched on the floor, picking up shards of glass with bare hands. His immediate thought was that a broom would be a better candidate for the job, and as if to voice his thoughts she yelped aloud and hunched back as she held her hand.

"Let me see," he said authoritatively, crouching beside her.

"What do you know?" she hissed through tears, drawing her hand to her side and twisting away from him. "You're not a doctor!"

"Rachel, it's broken glass," he said slowly. "I hardly think it warrants an MD. Now, give me your hand. We need to get the glass out."

Grudgingly she gave him his hand, frowning at the small grin that painted his lips before he turned his attention to the glass cutting into her hand. It hurt as it was, and even more as he deftly plucked it out.

"Do you have hydrogen peroxide?" he asked, bringing her hand closer to his face as he examined the now expanding puddle of blood in her palm.

"I think under the sink."

He helped her up, sitting her at the kitchen table and then kneeling in front of the sink. The peroxide apparently was near the back of the cabinet as he leaned forward, giving her a rather nice view. Quickly she averted her eyes, but they returned of their own accord moments later. He returned with the bottle of peroxide and several paper towels, sitting beside her and taking her hand again. He worked in silence, cleaning the wound with the peroxide.

"Ouch," she winced, her hand burning as the chemical sterilized the wound. He frowned slightly and said, "Yeah, probably should have warned you it would burn."

"I know what peroxide is," she bit out, wincing. "Therefore, I knew it would burn. Just…not this much."

He smirked at that. Still snarky, even when marginally injured. He pressed a paper towel to the cut and told her, "Keep the pressure. Where are your bandaids?"

She nodded her head toward a set of cabinets and he rose from the table, walking over to the cabinets. He rifled through a few medicine bottles before finding the bandaids. He settled beside her again and said, "Alright, hand please."

She handed it over, thinking that he was holding her hand far more than she expected today. He worked quietly, removing the paper towel and applying the bandaids tightly across the cut. He worked with precision, attention entirely on her hand as he made sure it was tended to correctly.

"There all done," he said triumphantly, relinquishing his hold on her hand. She tucked it in her lap and nodded. "Thank you," she said softly.

"May I ask what it is that is all over the floor?"

"Lemon Water," she said, remembering how she had needed something to do with her hands after their little exchange. It was rather ironic now.

"You made me lemon water?" he asked with feigned disbelief. "I'm touched, Rachel."

"I made us both lemon water," she clarified. "It's good for the throat."

"Not when it's cold," he retorted with a slight chuckle, easily calling her bluff. "Come now Rach, you know that." And she did, but the slight blunder was better than telling the truth. "Anyway we should clean it up," he said, standing and moving over to the broom resting against the refrigerator. He really had no idea why she hadn't just grabbed it in the first place.

She watched him for a moment and he turned and said, "That's not a war wound, Rachel. Just a scratch-come on and help."

Her lips turned up into a reluctant grin and she took the broom from him and said, "Fine, but you're on dust bin duty."

"So pushy," he teased, crouching down onto the floor.

"The glass seems to have something against me," she said. "Better I stay up here."

"Very true. Alright, let's clean this up." Together they cleaned up the rest of the glass, him positioning the dust bin as she swept the glass into it. They worked well together, but that wasn't a surprise. Not really.

"And done," Jesse said as she swept in the last of the glass. "Just grab that towel over there and we're done."

She moved dutifully over to the refrigerator and grabbed the towel, dropping it onto the floor to mop up the water with a few swipes of her foot. Once the floor was clean Jesse bent forward and scooped the soppy towel from the floor and tossed it into the sink. Turning to Rachel with a slow grin he said, "Alright, drink dropped, glass wound cleaned and tended to, mess cleared. I think we can finally move on to the arrangement."

"I'll be right out," he told him, gesturing for him to go out into the living room. "Don't you go making us anymore drinks," he warned lightly. "Cleaning that up once was enough."

"No, no more drinks," she promised. "I'll just be a sec."

He went out into the living room and she sat down, squeezing her eyes shut. She could do this. She could go out there and keep a calm face, level voice. She wouldn't allow him to affect her so much, so she reasoned that he wouldn't. She would go out there and be professional. As she walked out, head held high, she tripped.

"You okay?" Jesse called from the living room at the sound of her hand catching her fall loudly on the wall.

"Fine!" she answered, laughing to herself at the absurdity of that response. Yes, she was fine. She was so fine she was walking into walls.

"You better not have any drinks in your hand," he said loudly.

"Hands are empty," she said, moving out and sitting next to him. "Which proved very helpful."

He grinned. "Good, well, are you ready to rule Nationals?"

The first genuine grin graced her face and she nodded. "Yes."

"Well, let's get to work."

**A/N: I totally intended on writing the arrangement scene but then Rachel fell and I had no choice but go along with it. haha Hope you enjoyed!**


	6. Chapter 6

Happy Ending

"So, what did you do?" Kurt asked, voice leading and eyes telling her that he had his own ideas as to what the answer to the question was. She looked at him over their shared ice cream sundae and said, "We worked on the song."

"What else?"

Shooting him a look she said, "I know where you're going with this Kurt Hummel. And to save yourself from imminent disappointment, I think you should stop."

"What else?" he repeated, unfazed by her assurance that her answer would underwhelm. Kurt was dead set on finding out the unspoken secrets of her and Jesse's afterschool session, the actual existence of said secrets unnecessary. Sighing, Rachel told him, "We made out for hours, followed by cuddling as we watched _Mamma Mia_ in its entirety."

"Now I know that is a lie," Kurt sniffed. "You would not subject yourself willingly to hours of Pierce Brosnan singing."

"Nothing happened," Rachel said with a slight laugh. Kurt had a point about the Pierce Brosnan part. "Although we did mop my kitchen floor." She held up her bandaged hand. "And he did this."

"What?" Kurt mumbled, looking at her hand, her face, and then her hand again. "I-I didn't even notice that! What-you cleaned the kitchen together?"

Rachel couldn't help but laugh at the look of befuddlement that pulled his eyebrows together and screwed his mouth to the side. "I was bringing us some water and I tripped," she explained, feeling a slight sense of disappointment when his face righted itself. He looked rather funny the other way. "I cut my hand with the glass. He patched me up."

"McDreamy, hm?"

"He does have the hair," Rachel admitted.

"So, how did the planned portion of your meeting go? No doubt with you two working you came up with something brilliant."

"It went pretty well," Rachel conceded, her mind drifting back to that afternoon.

_ Seated at the piano, she watched his fingers deftly move across the keys. He picked out the melodies of the songs easily, humming to himself and then stopping, moving his hands to switch to another key. It was fascinating to watch him work. He was even more focused than her, no semblance of flirtation between them as he looked solely on toward the piece._

_ "What about this one?" he asked, playing her a line. "Would that work for Tina?"_

_ "Too low," Rachel told him. "She needs it higher."_

_ "But then it will be too high for Quinn," he said, shaking his head. "This is ridiculous. You should just be doing all the verses."_

_ Rachel grinned a bit at his frustration and said, "Let me try." She looked at him for a moment before gingerly reaching in front of him, her arms brushing his as she played. His eyes started on her hands but then they moved to her face. Lips curled into a grin, eyes lit with a soft look of admiration he said, "You are brilliant."_

_ "I just know them," she said sheepishly, feeling her cheeks redden at his attention. "I know what will work." _

_ "They have no idea how lucky they are to have someone like you."_

_ "They know," she said. Her tone was so hollow, even she didn't believe herself. He chuckled slightly and told her, "No, Rachel, they don't. They take you for granted." His eyes slid back to the piano as he said, "And they're not the first."_

"So you broke a glass, messed up your hand, and played some music," Kurt said, waiting for a nod from Rachel to verify that he had the progression correct. "So tame," he sniffed. "Was there at least a sidelong glance? Accidental boob graze?"

Rachel laughed, hitting his arm as she said, "No accidental boob grazes. Do those even happen?"

"I've seen Puck do it," Kurt said with a shrug.

"Yea, with Puck it's not accidental."

"So, really nothing?"

Rachel sighed, digging her spoon into the sundae and sticking a large spoonful into her mouth. There actually was more. It had happened just before he left, in fact, _right_ before. She had kept it from Kurt because she didn't even know what to make of it. She hadn't fully wrapped her head around it, not yet, and she decided she didn't want any help.

_ "You keep playing that," Rachel noted after a familiar string of notes. Jesse looked up suddenly, almost as if he had been caught offguard and said, "Sorry, it's just something I've been working on."_

_ "An original?" she asked tentatively, her stomach already flipping of its own accord. _

_ "Yeah, it's nothing really." _

_ "You're Jesse St James," she said lightly. "You don't do 'nothing'."_

_ "I'm going to take that as a compliment."_

_ "Let me hear it," she pressed, some otherwordly force urging her on. There was no other explanation because listening to one of his original songs was definitely not part of the plan. In fact, it practically went against the plan but she wanted to hear the song so much that it didn't seem to matter. "I promise not to be too critical."_

_ He laughed slightly and said, "Oh, well that's a relief."_

_ "Come on," she said, voice needling. "You can only sing the chorus if you want."_

_ He smiled slightly, not doubt at her persistence, and then rewarded her with the song's opening chords. She grinned to herself, thinking that she had gotten her way, but then the smile dimmed as he began to sing and the words hit her._

**_This is the way you've left me_**

**_I'm not pretending_**

**_No hope, no love, no glory_**

**_No happy ending_**

**_This is the way that we love_**

**_Like it's forever_**

**_And live the rest of our life_**

**_We're not together_**

_ She futilely hoped he would end it there, but already the chords built and she knew she was in over her head. She couldn't breathe. It was like watching an oncoming car careen toward her-sitting and listening to this song- but she couldn't stop him. Besides, she wanted it to go on as much as she wanted it to end._

**_Two o'clock in the morning_**

**_Something's on my mind_**

**_Can't get no rest_**

**_Keep walking around_**

**_If I pretend that nothing ever went wrong_**

**_I get to my sleep_**

**_I can think that we just carried on_**

**_This is the hardest story_**

**_That I've ever told_**

**_No hope for love or glory_**

**_Happy ending gone forever more_**

**_I feel as if I'm wasted_**

**_And I've wasted every day_**

_ His fingers ghosted over the keys, pounding out one complex chord progression and another. Her eyes stayed on his face, though. She couldn't tear her eyes from his expression as he sang, emotion so raw that it broke her heart._

**_This is the way you left me_**

**_I'm not pretending_**

**_No hope, no love, no glory_**

**_No happy ending_**

**_This is the way that we love_**

**_Like it's forever_**

**_And live the rest of our lives  
>We're not together<em>**

_ He continued playing. More and more the song built until she couldn't take anymore and she reached forward, covering her hands with his. Neither moved for a moment, her hands still resting lightly on his. When he did move it was sudden, a jerk of his hands as he slid them from beneath hers and said, "I guess I should go. I think we've done enough for one day."_

_ She nodded quickly, folding her hands on her lap. "Yes, I think so."_

_ When he finally looked at her he offered one small grin and she slid her gaze back to the piano keys. She felt him move from the piano bench and then he was gathering his coat, slipping one arm in and then the other. She turned on the seat, crossing her ankles demurely as he stood across from her near the door. _

_ "Well, I'll see you around Rachel."_

_ The phrase wasn't wistful, but instead quite literal. They had work to do regardless of the added layer of discomfort that this afternoon had invariably lent to their future meetings. She nodded and said, "Yes, I suppose you will."_

_ She stayed on the bench long after he left. She couldn't seem to move, rooted in the memory of his song. Her initial thought was that he didn't deserve to feel anything that those lyrics spoke of. He had hurt her. He had been the one to ruin what they had. However, if she were being completely honest what they had was ruined long before his betrayal. All the looks to Finn while her hand was securely in his. Jesse wasn't the only one to blame for what had ultimately happened. She played just as large of a role._

_ "Well, it's over now," she muttered to herself. The Finn-Hudson-infatuation had run its course and her pride would not allow her to give Jesse a chance, even acknowledging her culpability in their story's end. She was better off alone, anyway. It was less complicated, less messy._

"So nothing happened," Rachel said crisply, putting her spoon down on the table. "Moving on now?"

"Blaine wants to go on an official first date," Kurt offered. Rachel grinned and nodded her head happily as she said, "Yes, now _that_ is something I would like to discuss."

"I'm all for romance but Blaine is even worse," Kurt said. "I wouldn't put it past him to show up with flowers."

"Flowers are nice," she supplied, growing silent as she thought about the last time she had received flowers. It was admittedly a long time ago. "As if romance. Take it from a single girl, romance is very nice."

"Yeah, it is. I-" Kurt became distracted, his eyes narrowing and then widening again as he said, "Hey-isn't that Jesse?"

Rachel turned to follow his gaze and felt somethign tighten in her chest when she saw Jesse in the back corner of the cafe, seated with a petite blonde. The girl looked to be around twenty with short sandy blonde hair framing her face. She said something and Jesse burst into laughter, his head dropping back as a loud chortle fell from his lips. She disappointment sit heavily in her stomach. She used to make him laugh like that. They would sit and talk and-

"You're staring," Kurt said, just as Jesse's eyes met hers and the laughter died. She turned quickly and muttered, "Yes, yes I was. Is he coming over here?"

"No," Kurt said slowly. "But he is staring at the back of your head. And now-oh-now he's staring at me." Kurt offered a small wave. "Well, isn't this awkward."

"Do _not_ invite them to sit with us," Rachel hissed, her shoulders tense.

"And why in the world would I do that?"

"I don't know," she said hurriedly. "You're always talking about togetherness and-"

"When do I ever talk about togetherness?" he snapped. "Rachel Berry, let me tell you your brain is mush when you're on Jesse St James."

"What's he doing?" she asked.

"Not looking at you, if that's what you're hedging at." She crossed her arms irritably over her chest. "But the laughter is gone. And he looks all sorts of uncomfortable." He glanced over at Rachel and noted, "You look all sorts of uncomfortable too, Berry." His eyesbrows knitted together as he glanced between the two supremely awkward looking individuals and said, "Now, tell me again about that _nothing_ that happened."

Rachel frowned and admitted, "He played me this song yesterday. It was an original. I made him play it for me, but _he_ kept playing the melody. And you know that I can't ignore a good melody!" He nodded. "So it's really not my fault."

"Of course not."

"It was about me," Rachel said. "The song, it had to be about me and not in a good way."

"Was he giving you hell or sending in the clowns?" Kurt asked.

"Sending in the clown," she answered. "It was really raw and well..."

"Things are awkward now?" Rachel nodded. "Well good luck with the rest of your meetings."

"I know," she sighed, shaking her head. "The show must go on, after all."

Kurt chuckled, picking up his spoon again and digging into the sundae. "Your life Rachel, someone should script it. Seriously, they would make millions."

Rachel looked casually over her shoulder and asked, "You think they're together?"

"Well, that would certainly add complexity to his courting you."

"I can't wait until Nationals is done," Rachel said in a huff. "Then this will all be over and done with. He will go back to California. Things will go back to the way they were."

Kurt responded with, "He's staring again."

Rachel's hands trembled. Yes, she definitely wanted him back in California.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Okay, you guys are awesome. The feedback to the last chapter just blew me away. Thank you so much to each and everyone who reviewed. Favorites and Alerts too, you're not _as_ awesome but still up there, lol. Hope you enjoy this one!**

Friends

Rachel was always a forward girl. She liked to deal with things head on. It was the best way to get to a straight answer, and she saw the predicament of Jesse and the mystery blonde as no different. She had a question and it was only fair that he gave an answer. Therefore, at their next meeting without any pomp and circumstance Rachel simply asked, "Who was that blonde you were with?"

Jesse hadn't even gotten his coat off and smirked a bit as he asked, "Jealous?"

"Curious," she corrected. "And she looked, um, familiar."

"No she didn't," Jesse said with a slight grin, easily calling her bluff. "And she's a friend from UCLA. She's from around here so we agreed to meet for coffee. She was in a show I was in."

"What show?"

Jesse laughed, tossing his coat onto the couch. He turned to her with his arms crossed over his chest and said, "Well, aren't we full of questions today."

"Simply making conversation," she said crisply. "Besides, I've always been curious of what exactly you do over there. Always good to know for my, uh, future collegiate endeavors."

"Future collegiate endeavors?" She nodded. "Well, I wouldn't recommend UCLA. You're too good for them."

That last part confused her and she sputtered for a moment before managing, "But you go there."

"Yeah, because I knew it was a place that I would get all the attention. You're different than me, though. Go to Julliard."

"I haven't applied," she said. "Or gotten accepted."

"You will." She smiled demurely and he clapped his hands together as he moved past her to the piano. "Alright, let's finish up this song. It's about time to show the others, no?"

Rachel nodded, moving beside him at the piano. "Yeah, I told Mr. Schuester I would have it for tomorrow."

"Well, then we'd better get to work."

* * *

><p>Before rehearsal all the glee clubbers sat at their usual seats. Rachel sat in her center front position, legs crossed and hands perched comfortably on her knee. This was the moment. She had what she knew was the absolute <em>perfect<em> song and in a manner of minutes it would be released. Her and Jesse had worked long and hard the day before to make up all the sheet music and divvy up the parts. It was endless writing and rewriting, but they ended up with something that she was proud to share.

"Aren't you even going to give us a hint at what it is?" Finn asked, leaning forward. "I mean, we're in the club, too."

"We are waiting for Mr. Schuester," Rachel said decisively.

"I don't understand what the big deal is," Finn continued, only to be cut off by Santana as she snipped, "Just calm it, not-so-Jolly Green Giant. You only have to wait a few minutes and then instant gratification. We all know you waited a lot longer to get to first base with Miss Purity Pants over there." Quinn frowned, and gave Santana a disapproving look. No doubt the Latina would have had more to say but Mr. Schuester burst into the room. Apolgetically he told them all, "Sorry I'm late guys. I got held up."

"You should report that," Brittany said from her seat. Accustomed to her often nonsensical asides, Schuester only gave her a slight glance before saying, "Alright guys, I am very excited, as I'm sure all of us are, to hear this idea for Nationals! So, let's hear it Rachel!"

Rachel nodded crisply, very businesslike, as she rose from her chair and began to pass out the music. Diligently she explained, "We are at our best when covering rock songs. It suits our range of voices and the general make-up of New Directions. Therefore, I have created a mash-up of the Beatles classics _Help_ and _We Can Work It Out_."

"Not bad," Artie said after Rachel handed him his sheet music. "In fact, it's sort of brilliant."

"Thank you," Rachel said simply.

"Hey-why aren't you gloating?" Puck asked, eyebrows knitted together in suspicion. Rachel saw her fellow-hot-Jew was beginning to see past the ruse and she quickly said, "Because I haven't finished explaining the reasoning behind the song choice, Noah." He nodded grudgingly, but she could tell that he was not convinced.

"So…" she stalled, feeling a rush of nerves when she realized that she had, in fact, finished explaining the song. "This…will be great." She stalled again, trying to think of what Jesse would say in this situation. He would have the perfect response for Puck to throw him off the scent. Luckily, she was saved by Mr. Schuester who jumped in and said, "Alright, well let's give it a test run!" Teasingly he added, "See how good you really are, Rachel."

She suddenly found her Jesse-spiration as she reflexively answered, "I assure you, Mr. Schue, I am very good."

He chuckled at her response and motioned for Brad to go over to the piano to play for them. That guy really did prove handy. The song began and Rachel felt her stomach clench. This was the moment where she would see if all of her long hours with Jesse St James had amounted to anything besides restless nights and increased chocolate consumption.

She shouldn't have been surprised when it played out perfectly.

Each part was handpicked by her to match the individual abilities of each New Direction member. In light of that, everyone picked up their parts easily. There was no note partially out of range, no rhythm that proved tricky. The song almost seemed like a safe choice then, performed so seamlessly on the first go. It wasn't, though. It was simply a good-no-great song.

_The_ song.

They all could feel it as Rachel held out the last note. It hung there in the air for just a moment before the room dissolved into a hum of conversation and excitement. Mr. Schuester was beaming, already making his way over to Rachel to pull her into a tight hug.

"That was incredible!" he breathed out, face positively beaming. "You really are something, Rachel."

"We told you the prodigy would deliver," Santana said smugly.

Schuester laughed. "Yeah, well, Nationals, here we come!"

* * *

><p>Rachel walked over to Santana as they left practice and asked, "So, do we tell them?"<p>

Santana glanced over at her and asked, "Tell them what?"

"You know, about Jesse?"

"Why in the world would we tell them about St. James? He served his purpose, end of story."

"But-"

"No need to complicate things," Santana said. "We have the song. They like it. Now we move on." They walked outside and Rachel couldn't see why Santana suddenly began to laugh. It was a slow, disturbing laugh and she didn't understand until she followed Santana's gaze and found Jesse standing outside of McKinley, casually leaning against his car. He waved when he saw her and she blanched.

"What-what do I do?" Rachel demanded, looking over at Santana quickly.

"That is a mess for _you_ to get yourself out of," Santana said with a devious smirk. "But I'll tell you one thing. Guy waiting for you outside of school? You guys did more than work on that song."

Santana sauntered off, leaving a rather stricken Rachel and an increasingly amused Jesse. Rachel could just hear the rest of the group approaching and she panicked as she ran toward Jesse and gestured for him to get in his car.

"Care to use your words?" he teased.

Shrilly she yelled back, "Just get in your car!"

"I'm here to give you a ride," he said as explanation. He continued to lean against the car, clearly ignoring her panic. "Figured you might need one."

"Fine, fine," she snapped, whipping the car door open and climbing in. "Just get in the damn car!"

Chuckling at her hysterics, he walked around to the driver's seat and climbed in. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were embarrassed to be seen with me."

"Drive," she ordered.

They pulled out of the parking lot just as the rest of New Directions exited the school. She looked back over her seat and winced as she met eyes with Noah Puckerman. Shrinking back into her seat, she thought that her and Puck would be having a chat soon.

"How did the song go over?" Jesse asked after a moment. She scowled, frustrated by the pleasant, normal chatter he was trying to start. Did he realize what nearly happened? He almost met Finn and Puck and their four fists. _That_ is what nearly happened.

Not to mention Artie's wheelchair. She could just picture the boy ramming his wheelchair into Jesse. The more she thought about it she began to think that perhaps it was Artie who posed the most threat.

"You never told them, did you?" Jesse asked.

"Of course I told them about the song," she answered. "It's brilliant."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I meant me."

"No," she answered. "I did not."

"I've been wondering why I haven't had Hudson knocking at my door."

"He doesn't know where you live," Rachel said.

"Very true, and I doubt he has the mental faculties to find it." Rachel knew she should feel a flare of protectiveness for the former love-of-her-life, but she couldn't' deny the truth in the statement. "So," he continued. "you never told me how it went."

"I did," Rachel said. "I told you it was brilliant."

"Well of course, we came up with it." She couldn't help but smile at that. "You have a winner on your hands." She softened at talk of Nationals, unable to stop herself from gushing as she said, "We are going to sweep Nationals. I really feel that this is our year."

"Do you?"

She nodded firmly. "Yes, I honestly do. We've worked hard enough, after all. We deserve this."

He looked over at her and said, "Well, then you should win."

Their eyes met and she smiled slightly, looking away and back at her hands folded on her lap. She curled her toes in her shoes, the prolonged silence only making the unanswered questions in her mind louder. Finally she asked, "Why did you come to pick me up?"

He paused for a moment, trying to decide whether to use his charm or simply tell her the truth. The latter won out as he told her, "I could hardly believe it when I ran into you in that music store. All the places you could have been, and you end up there. And then the purse. Nationals. Let's face it, Rach, we keep being pushed together."

"Jesse-"

"Just let me finish," he said. "I know what you're thinking and that's not where I'm going with this." She nodded for him to continue while biting her tongue to keep from asking more questions. "It made me realize that I still care about you. I'm not asking you to forgive me for last year. I can't ask that. But I do want to ask you to let me in again. We have something, the two of us. There is something there." She trained her eyes on the road in front of them, unable to look at him with that truth aired so openly. He surprised her then by finishing with, "I'd like us to be friends."

"You'd like us to be friends?" she asked slowly, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"Well, it's something we've never tried before." She laughed, nodding her head. "I always do enjoy trying new things," she agreed.

He pulled up to her house, parking just behind her mailbox, and said, "So, what do you say? Friends?" He held out a hand and she hesitated for just a moment before grasping it with her own and repeating, "Friends."

So, there they were. Jesse St James and Rachel Berry shaking hands. It was all friendly and platonic until she kept her hand there for just a moment too long and they both felt the jolt. She could see it in his eyes, him in the gentle parting of her lips. Neither knew who did it first. Perhaps she leaned forward or he pulled her in. Whatever it be, both ended up at the center of the seat with faces only a breath apart.

"Friends," he breathed out again as her hand found the back of his neck and pulled his face to hers. As their lips touched, she murmured against his mouth, "Yeah, friends."

**A/N: Like that ending there? ;)**

**So..any of you keeping up with the Glee filming in NYC? I cannot get over the adorableness of it all! Even though it looks like a whole bunch of Finchel scenes, I don't even care. I am just so excited to see it all!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Wow, your guys' responses to the last two chapters have been AMAZING. Thank you so much! Hope we can keep the momentum! Now, onto the really important stuff:**

**GLEE PROMO. JONATHAN GROFF. WHAT ARE WORDS?**

**I seriously cannot wait for next week! Even without Jesse returning the episode looks ah-mazing! Anyhoo, enough gushing. Hope you enjoy this!**

The Jig is Up

Noah Puckerman wasn't the brightest bulb. He didn't understand math. Or basic grammar. But he knew a guilty look when he saw one and Rachel Berry looked guilty. He'd bet anything it had something to do with whoever was in that car with her. He didn't actually get a good look at who was driving. Only her wide eyes as she ducked behind the seat.

And then that song. It was a good choice but Rachel didn't know classic rock and she was much too modest about it all. Usually he couldn't wait for her to shut up as she went on and on about her song but she had been brief. And that chick is never brief.

Oh yeah, something was up. And Noah Puckerman was going to find out what it was. He figured Santana would know. Any scheme usually had the Latina behind it.

And so he scoped out his target, puffed his chest, and prepared for business.

* * *

><p>Rachel sat in the choir room, phone tucked carefully into the pocket of her skirt. It buzzed and she pulled it out, looking around quickly for a moment before tapping on the screen and reading Jesse's message.<p>

"Oh," she breathed out, lips pressing into a frown. _Funny Lady_ was on TCM. Just her luck she was missing it. She texted him back telling him to DVR it when Puck stood in front of her. She didn't acknowledge him at first as her fingers moved deftly over the keypad.

"Rachel," he said, voice commanding attention. She held up one finger as she said, "Let me just finish this. And...finished!" She tapped send and then looked up at Puck with a wide grin. "What can I do for you, Noah?"

"I know," he said.

"Know what?"

"You didn't come up with that song on your own." The color left her cheeks as she found it suddenly hard to breathe. She stammered, "What-what do you mean?'

"I hear that Jesse St James jerk helped."

"Who told you that?" Rachel asked in her best outraged voice, tucking her hair behind her ears. "That's-well-just preposterous!"

"Cut the act, Berry," Santana said, striding up beside Puck. "The jig's up. I told him."

"What-why would you do that?"

"So St James did help you!" Puck exclaimed, just as Finn and Sam walked into the choir room. Rachel saw Finn work through that particular exclamation as Santana haughtily told her, "No reason for me to hide that news. We have the song."

"Yeah, but-"

"Wait, Jesse helped you with that song?" Finn demanded, pushing his way past them to Rachel. She was still seated, making the height difference between them even more pronounced. She crossed her legs daintily and looked up at him. The cat was out the bag it seemed and she was determined to handle this gracefully. She had done nothing wrong, after all. Only saved the team.

"Yes, he played a minor role."

"Rachel, I can't believe you!" Finn huffed. "You're talking with him again? Do you not remember everything he did to you last year?"

"Finn, I appreciate your concern but I am perfectly capable of handling Jesse St James. And myself."

That last addition caught Finn's attention and he stalled for one moment before asking, "You're not with him again are you?"

"We are friendly again if that is what you mean," Rachel answered vaguely.

"What? What does that even mean?"

"I don't want him to be ripped apart by a lion anymore," Rachel said crisply. 'That is what it means."

"Rachel, this is ridiculous!" Finn said loudly, his face getting redder as he continued railing on about it all. "I can't believe that you would be so stupid and let him back in like this!"

"I'm not being stupid," Rachel answered, beginning to feel her temper spike. Her phone buzz and she ignored Finn's overtures that she was, in fact, being stupid as she checked the message.

_Already DVRing. Sweet Tomatos and Barbra tonight?_

He knew to DVR without her having to tell him. And he knew that Sweet Tomatoes was her favorite restaurant in all of Lima. No, she was not being stupid. For once, she was being smart.

It occurred to her that Finn was still going on as she pointedly ignored him. The rest of the club had filtered in, too. The girls exchanging knowing glances as the boys looked on. At one point she heard Sam go, "Jesse who?"

"St James," Artie said darkly. "His picture appears next to _traitor_ in the dictionary. And _betrayal_. And _ass_."

"Wow, some impression that guy made," Sam remarked.

"This is probably some scheme!" Finn said, turning around to the rest of the club triumphantly. "Right? He's trying to ruin Nationals for us!"

Mr. Schuester walked in then, confused as to the action he walked in on. He put down the music and asked, "What's going on?"

"Jesse St James is trying to sabotage us for Nationals," Finn explained hurriedly as Rachel already leaned forward and interjected, "This is ridiculous!"

Mr. Schuester looked between Rachel and Finn, both of them throwing words at him, and then he shook his head quickly. "Guys stop! One at a time, tell me what is going on. Rachel, you go first."

"Thank you," she said, nodding her head. "So, I had a little help with the song earlier this week."

"From who?" Mr. Schuester asked, no doubt worried about it being leaked. She had a feeling he would not like this next part.

"Jesse," she said, watching his expression. "We ran into each other over the weekend. I asked him for help-"

"It was my idea," Santana added from the back row. When Rachel shot her a look she said, "Credit where credit is due, Berry."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Anyway, he helped with the song. That's it."

Mr. Schuester looked over at Finn and said, "Alright Finn, go."

"It's clearly a plan to ruin our chances at Nationals," Finn said, cheeks still flushed with anger. "He's trying to sabotage us. And once again Rachel is falling for it!"

"That is not true," Rachel muttered, shaking her head. "He's jumping to conclusions."

"No," Finn argued. "I'm just drawing from past experience."

"Okay guys, enough!" Mr. Schuester said firmly, sensing another fight brewing between Finn and Rachel. "Okay, Rachel, why don't you have Jesse come to rehearsal tomorrow. Everyone can ask him what they want to-"

"But-"

"I think he owes us that," Mr. Schuester held.

"Fine," Rachel sighed. "I'll have him come tomorrow."

* * *

><p>"You seem distracted," Jesse noted, looking over at her. They were watching <em>Funny Lady<em>, just as they had planned. He had picked up Sweet Tomatoes on the way back and he even gave her his extra breadstick. Everything was going well, except for the fact that she had yet to tell him that he had to face New Directions.

He wouldn't care. That was the great thing about Jesse; he was never intimidated. He would just shrug and return his attention to the movie. She could not be so cavalier about it, though. Walking into that choir room with him would raise questions, ones that she was not prepared to face.

What were they?

They hadn't kissed since the car. They didn't even mention it, falling into a comfortable relationship that came easily to both of them. But it was one without talking through the issues and that's what made it easy. She was worried what would happen when they actually had to face everything that was unspoken between them. And she did not think that standing in front of all of New Directions was the time to do that.

"They know," she finally said. "And Mr. Schue wants you to come to practice tomorrow."

"They know," he repeated slowly. She looked over at him, lips pressing into a frown as he predictably shrugged. "Well, had to happen eventually."

"Aren't you at all worried?"

He looked down at her with a brilliant grin and said, "No. Should I be?"

"They hate you."

"I think I'll survive."

"I wouldn't put it past Artie to roll his chair over your foot."

"Hm, well, I will be on the look out for that."

She picked up her fork and speared the last of his tofu, pushing it into her mouth. Maybe if she ate herself into oblivion she wouldn't have to face tomorrow. Jesse smirked at her behavior and said, "You don't have to worry. I have nothing to hide."

"You don't?" she asked, thinking of the two of them.

"No, I don't. Just helping out a friend."

The last word stung and she looked away from him as she nodded and said, 'Yeah, you're right."

"So don't worry about tomorrow," he said cheerfully, patting her leg. "I'm good with people, remember?"

Her thoughts drifted back to their moments in the car, as her were are apt to do, and she muttered, "Yeah, a little too good."

**A/N: And...next chapter will have the New Directions-Jesse face off! Hope you enjoyed this! **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Glee tonight? Unbelievably good. I won't give away anything for those who haven't seen it. All I have to say is: ST BERRY. It's back on, baby!**

You Can Have Your Cake And Eat It Too

She felt as if everything were happening in slow motion. She was seated in her usual spot in the choir room and Jesse was up at the front near the piano, Mr. Schue standing beside him. All around her people were talking loudly, throwing questions like darts.

_There's a moment you know you're fucked_.

The song played in her mind, and she thought that if there were a moment, well, this would be it. All the while Jesse smiled calmly, answering the questions with an aplomb that shouldn't have surprised her, but did. How could he be so cavalier? Why was he so cool when he was the one standing on New Directions trial, yet she could barely sit still.

"How do we know you're still not trying to screw us over?" Artie asked pointedly from his seat. "This could all be some cover to ruin our chances at Nationals."

"Well, the first five times I was asked this I said that my intentions are pure," Jesse answered. "And last time I checked, they still are."

"Ever think the repetition is because they don't trust you?" Sam cut in. "I wasn't here when all of this went down, but seems like you have a lot of groveling to do, man."

"No amount of groveling can make what you did okay," Finn said sullenly. He looked squarely at Rachel and said, "It shouldn't make _anything_ that he did okay."

She frowned and said, "Finn, we are talking about Jesse helping with the song. Nothing else."

"We can't talk about one and not the other," Finn argued stubbornly. "They sort of went together. He used you to get to us."

"That isn't true at all," Jesse interjected. "No offense, but I didn't have to hurt Rachel to beat you guys." His haughty air dropped for just a moment as he said, "That was all me. Not Vocal Adrenaline."

"Which is exactly why you guys shouldn't be talking," Finn said irritably, shaking his head. He turned to Rachel and told her, "He's no good for you. He-"

"Finn," Schue interrupted. "Let's stay on topic, okay?"

"This is on topic!"

"Enough!" Rachel huffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "Whatever is between Jesse and I is between the two of us, not the entire team. So you don't get to have a say." She rose from her seat and moved to Jesse, standing beside him. "It's about time I said a few things on this. Jesse is _not_ here to screw us over. He made a mistake."

"Several," Jesse murmured, and she looked up at him for just a moment. The look on his face made her stomach do several flips and she nearly forgot herself until Santana said, "Berry, stop salivating and finish what you were saying."

"Right," she said automatically, turning back to the choir room. She could see that Jesse was grinning beside her and she had an intense desire to jab him in the ribs. "There is no way that Jesse can make you all believe him, I realize that." She paused. "But you can believe me. You know how much this team means to me, how much all of you mean to me. I would not do anything that would jeopardize our chances at Nationals. Jesse wants to help. Nothing else."

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Santana remarked with a smirk. Mr. Schue ignored her comment as he clapped his hands together and said, "Well, okay then! I think we have established that Jesse wants nothing but to help this time around." He looked over to Jesse and he nodded. "Alright, then I suggest that he helps us prepare for Nationals."

"We don't need his help," Puck said, glowering. "We're just fine."

"No offense," Jesse said, stepping forward. "But you're not. Nationals is the big leagues. No team is _just fine_. You need to have a game plan, a secret weapon."

"And you're our secret weapon?" Sam asked dubiously. Jesse grinned easily at that and retorted, "Yes, I am. The song was good, wasn't it?"

No one could argue.

"With me on your side, you guys will kill at Nationals."

* * *

><p>The rest of the rehearsal went on without much more fanfare. The group performed the rest of their songs for Nationals and Jesse offered his best criticism. Several included giving more solos to Rachel, which she promptly turned down. It was all going moderately well until the rehearsal ended and everyone headed out to the buses. Rachel had to stop in the bathroom and Jesse waited for her right outside. He was not particularly surprised when Finn Hudson approached.<p>

"Finn," he said in greeting. "And here I was thinking we could escape confrontation."

"If you screw us over again you are going to really regret it."

Jesse nodded, face screwed up into feigned solemnity and he said, "Alright, bland threat, go on."

"And if you hurt Rachel…"

"Oh, I see," Jesse said. "So you _are_ pining."

"She deserves better than how you treated her."

"And you were any better?" Jesse spit, remembering Rachel's face as she told him about her and Finn's messy relationship. "You broke her."

"I didn't do anything," Finn said, leaning toward Jesse menacingly. "I was good to her. A hell of a lot better than you were."

"You ran back to your ex's arms not even a week after you guys broke up," Jesse reminded him. How the hell could this guy actually think that that was treating Rachel well? "You went back to the girl that always made Rachel feel like she wasn't good enough. Do you know how that must have felt? Try humiliated? Try-"

"You threw eggs at her!" Finn accused, using the only piece of ammunition that he had left in the face of what he had done to Rachel. Jesse's eyes darkened and he said, "Yeah, I did. I never said I was perfect, or that what Rachel and I had was. You're right about my not deserving her. I don't. But neither do you."

Finn didn't answer. He just stood there silent, and he probably would have stayed there if Puck didn't come up and say, "Come on, Finn. Don't waste your time."

He seemed to find himself then and throw Jesse one last snarl before walking off with Puck.

* * *

><p>She stood at the door, listening to Jesse and Finn spar. She always thought it would be thrilling to witness to men fighting over her, but she found that it was more irritating than anything else. She was so sick of Finn attacking Jesse. If she had forgiven him, why couldn't everyone else?<p>

She was about to walk out there, finish this once and for all, when Jesse spoke and his words stopped her.

_You're right about my not deserving her._

_ I don't._

She understood then. His hesitance. Friends. It all made sense then. She heard Puck stop by and silently prayed that it didn't escalate. She breathed easier when she heard Puck take Finn away and then it fell silent outside the door. She waited for just a moment and then opened the door. Jesse smiled when he saw her, but she noticed it didn't exactly reach his eyes.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Yeah."

* * *

><p>He pulled the car up onto her driveway and she watched him actively avoid eye contact as he said, "Well, here we are."<p>

"Turn the car off," she told him, clicking herself out of her seatbelt.

"What?"

"Turn the car off," she repeated, offering him a smile. "You are having dinner with my dads and I tonight."

"But-"

"No buts," she said firmly. "My dad is making his famous sweet potato and black bean enchiladas and you are going to thoroughly enjoy them."

A ghost of a smile and Jesse said, "You don't have to invite me in."

"I want to. Besides, my parents love you. They'd be more than happy to have you for dinner."

"Will you mind?"

She tilted her head to the side and said, "I asked you, didn't I silly?"

He hesitated for a moment but then turned off the car and pulled the key from the ignition. He pocketed the keys and climbed from the car, moving over to her side to open the door. She could have opened the door herself in the time it took him to get to her side of the car but she dutifully waited.

"You are going to love these enchiladas," she told him chipperly, linking her arm with his. "They are an experience. And a good one."

"Well, then I'm sure I'll love them."

She grinned, fishing her keys out of her pocket and opening the door. She walked in first and Jesse closed the door behind them. "Dad!" she called out, tossing her school bag onto the couch. "I'm home! And I brought a surprise with me!"

"Coming, sweetie!" he called, meeting them in the living room. His grin widened when he saw Jesse and he said, "I didn't know you were coming!"

"I drove Rachel home from Glee club practice and she insisted I join you."

"Well, the more the merrier!" Jay trilled. "Just wait until you taste my sweet potato enchiladas!"

* * *

><p>She walked him out afterwards, closing the front door behind them to get a bit of privacy. He turned toward her and said, "Thanks for inviting me, Rach. It was nice."<p>

"They like being around you," she said with a shrug. "I do too, you know."

"Well that's good considering all the time we've been spending together."

"I heard you and Finn earlier." His eyes snapped to hers as he asked, "Hear anything interesting?"

"You don't think you deserve me."

"No, I don't."

"Well, I think I should get a say in that, no?"

"You deserve someone without baggage, Rach. Someone who hasn't hurt you a million times."

"Once," she said, stepping forward. "You hurt me once and have since apologized. I don't want to hold grudges, Jesse. Not when there is so much to gain by letting go."

"You deserve better."

"Yeah," she said, gently laying her hands on his chest. "I probably do. But I'm a girl who knows what she wants."

"Even when it might not be the best for her?"

She smiled a bit, sliding her hands up and around his neck. "What can I say? I'm a bit of a self-masochist."

He chuckled a bit as his arms found their way around her waist of their own accord. She rose on her toes as she tilted her face to him. There was little question as to what she wanted, but he took his time. Gently he traced the curve of her cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked. He needed to hear her say it, just once more. She answered by pressing lightly on his neck and guiding his face to hers. This kiss was different than the first. That one had been rushed, a stolen moment that neither of them fully understood. This time, though, they both knew what they were doing. The kiss was a decision. A promise.

"You'd better go," she said, smiling slightly. "My parents like you but they probably wouldn't like us making out here."

"I'll see you tomorrow at practice."

She smiled. "Yeah, you will."

She took one last kiss and then stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest to shield her from the cold as he climbed back into his car. Once he had disappeared around the corner she turned and headed back into the house.

**A/N: And they are together! I was going to drag it out a bit more but after tonight's episode I just couldn't! So...the rest of this will be with Jesse and Rachel together. Hope you enjoyed!**

**Btw-feel free to fangirl over tonight's episodes in your reviews. I am probably equally freaking out! lol**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: So, how good was Tuesday's episode? I cried like a baby during Jean's funeral. So beautiful. Glee at it's best. Anyhoo, hope you enjoy this!**

In Plain Sight

Jesse was curious as to how Rachel would tell the whole of New Directions that they were now a bonafide couple. If it were him, he would just plant one on her in front of the team, but he figured that she would have a more demure way to handle things. While they were both theatrical beings, he was surely the showman of the couple. She would probably take them to the side after practice. Send a mass Facebook message.

Or snog him in front of the entire team.

He was taken aback at first when she grabbed his hand and tugged him toward her, rising on her tip toes as she reached up and pulled his face to hers. They were standing at the front of the room, and the public display of affection was met with audible scoffs, some laughter, and a pointed gag directly behind Rachel, which Jesse was moderately sure belonged to Noah Puckerman. When Rachel pulled away, clasping her hand securely with Jesse's as she faced the collection of stricken faces, Santana offered a slow clap from her seat in the back.

"Congratulations Berry. Just when I thought you couldn't make more of a spectacle of yourself."

"As you most likely gleaned from that scene," Rachel replied promptly, "Jesse and I are now a couple. Please hold your questions." When no one made a move to object she added, "Really, I mean it. We are not taking any questions."

"I don't think we have any," Quinn said tiredly.

Jesse looked down at Rachel and could see that she was working through this last response, unable to comprehend a situation where they flaunted their relationship and there wasn't some response.

"You-you guys really have nothing to say?"

"We knew you were together the moment he said he would help," Tina said, looking up at Mike for agreement. He nodded and added, "Yeah, it was as obvious as a blinking neon sign."

"Was not," Rachel huffed. "We were very under the radar."

Jesse dipped his mouth to Rachel's ear and murmured, "They're not raising armies here, Rach. That's a good thing."

While Rachel still pouted marginally at the utter lack of drama that their outing created, Mr. Schue walked in and smiled at them. He nodded toward Jesse and said, "Nice to have you here again, Jesse. So guys, you all ready for Nationals this weekend?"

Rachel and Jesse sat in the front row of chairs as the club offered a chorus of responses. Finn muttered, "If it means Jesse will be back in California."

Rachel was about to turn and answer to that remark when someone else did it for her. In a tense voice Quinn snapped, "Even if it is, he will still be a part of Rachel's life. So just get off it, okay?"

"I like this Jesse kid," Lauren said from the back. "Makes things interesting here for once."

"Guys, enough!" Mr. Schue said, exhaling loudly. "Can we just put all this personal stuff to the side for once and focus on the music?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Jesse said, leaning comfortably in his chair. "This is exactly the type of behavior that will make you all lose Nationals. You need to be focused. Let nothing get in the way."

"Exactly," Mr. Schue said, although his countenance showed a little less warmth toward the curly haired youth. He was the root of all of this unrest, after all. "So, how about we do something productive like run a song, huh?"

* * *

><p>He called her that night. She almost didn't pick up, knowing full well that all she was going to get was an unhealthy dose of tongue lashing and unfounded concerns. She answered anyway, though. Besides, if she was being honest she wanted to get a rise out of all of them earlier. Seemed she was just getting that rise a few hours late.<p>

"Hello Finn," she said calmly, picking up her magazine from her nightstand and propping it on her lap, opening up to the first page. If she was going to sit through this phone call, she was going to be entertained.

"I need to talk to you."

"Yes, considering this phone call I figured that was the case." She thought to herself that she was beginning to sound a bit like Jesse. Good thing he was always so clever.

"You need to be careful with Jesse."

Rachel mumbled some response, much more interested in the latest nail colors for spring than whatever Finn was going on and on about.

"He said himself that he isn't good for you," Finn said.

"Oh really, when was this? Yesterday outside the bathroom?"

"Um yeah, but-"

"Sorry Finn, you can't add dialogue to that," she said easily, studying an outfit on Ellen Pompeo as she continued. "I heard the entire thing. Yeah, something you didn't know about me. Total eavesdropper."

"Well, it was inferred."

"Yes," Rachel admitted. She would give Finn that, at least. "I guess it was inferred. But I choose to disagree with the entire 'Jesse is not good for you and bound to screw up your entire life plan' angle. He cares about me and I know you guys can't see that, but you have to trust me here."

"We trust you, Rachel, but-"

"No, they might trust me but you don't." Rachel pushed her magazine off her lap, sitting up straighter. "I know I haven't been the smartest with guys. I mean, I chased after you for how long when it was clear that we would never work?"

"Rachel-"

"I'm not looking for pity," Rachel interrupted, recognizing the tone of his voice. "I don't need it, not anymore."

"So, you've made of your mind? You're choosing him?"

"What other choice is there?" she demanded. She was met with a silence that she knew all to well. Pulling her knees to her chest she said, "Oh no, our ship sailed a long time ago, Finn. And you're with Quinn and believe it or not, in the past few weeks I've actually realized that she isn't someone who deserves to be screwed over. I've moved on, Finn. It's time that you do, too."

"Rachel-"

"For the sake of the team, I am going to hang up before this becomes even more unsalvageable between us. I'll see you at school tomorrow, Finn."

She hung up before he could another idiotic response. Sometimes Finn Hudson made it really hard to tolerate him. She couldn't imagine how she had been in love with him. Then again, he was what she had always wanted and it was easy to fall in love with a dream. It was the waking up part that was hard.

"Rachel!" her father called out from downstairs. "You have a gentleman caller!"

She laughed, thinking that Jesse really did have good timing. Right when she needed someone who didn't make her want to throw things, he appeared. She pulled herself from her bed and going to the stairs. Jesse was at the foot of the stairs, smiling easily up at her. She suppressed a grin and asked, "Are you supposed to be my gentleman caller?"

"Yes," he said. "I believe I am."

"Let down," she murmured with a sober face, traipsing down the steps toward him. "You look nothing like Rhett Butler."

"Yeah, you've got me there," Jesse answered smoothly, palming her waist when she stops in front of him. "I look better."

She stepped forward one more step and grabbed the collar of his shirt, giving him a quick kiss. "So, gentleman caller who may or may not look better than Rhett Butler-"

"May," he interjected. She grinned and finished, "Didn't I just see you a few hours ago?"

"I'm here to take you out for dinner," Jesse said. "Knowing you, you've been working on your Nationals stuff since you've gotten home."

"Maybe," she said evasively.

"Figure you could use a break. Your dads, too."

She laughed and slapped his arm lightly. "I'm not that bad," she said. Besides, her fathers always told her they liked her unintentional serenades.

"Come on, it'll be fun," he baited. "A little food. Maybe even dessert."

"I don't know…"

"I also happen to have the just released _Book of Mormon_ soundtrack in my car." Rachel's eyes widened. He really did know exactly what to dangle in front of her to make her run. "Alright, you convinced me," she said. "Do I get to choose the songs?"

"That doesn't warrant an answer," he said with a smirk. "We both know you'd do it anyway."

She kissed him once more. "You know me so well. Alright, I'll tell my dads and then be right back." She stepped past him but then turned back and paused for a moment, tilting her head a bit to the side as she studied his face.

"What?" he asked, not liking the devious grin on her face.

"You know, you wouldn't look too bad with a Rhett Butler moustache."

He laughed, pushing her toward the kitchen. "Go talk to your fathers."

"No really!" she said over her shoulder, laughing at the look on his face. "You should consider it!"

* * *

><p>"Are you nervous about Nationals?" Jesse asked as they drove back to her house after dinner. She shook her head and said, "No, not about Nationals."<p>

"Good, you shouldn't be." He glanced over at her, noticing that she was looking out the window. Easily he filled in, "But you're worried about other things."

"I'm worried about how well we are all going to work at Nationals," Rachel admitted. She thought of Finn's phone call and the looks of distrust in some of New Direction's eyes as her and Jesse stood before them. They hadn't openly voiced disapproval then, much to her chagrin. She was ready to tell them all how wrong they were.

But just because they kept silent didn't mean that they didn't have their concerns. She worried how this would all rear its head at Nationals. And if she learned anything from her time with New Directions, it was that the ugly drama _always_ reared its head.

"You'll pull through," Jesse told her. "After all, the show must go on. They all know that."

"Yeah, I hope."

Stopped at a red light, he turned toward her and gently traced her cheek with his fingertips. She covered his hand with hers and turned her lips in to gently brush his palm. "I'm fine, really," she assured him. "It's just something I've been thinking about."

"Well, don't let it get between you and Nationals," he said. "Even if I have to not be there then-"

"What?" she interrupted, turning fully toward him so that her knees pushed against the middle console. "You're coming?"

He laughed. "Of course I am."

"But it's after your break ends."

"I know."

"And it's in _New York._"

He smirked at that. She made it sound like it was held in Africa or something. "Well, then it's a good thing that I can navigate an airport relatively well."

She grinned, turning back toward the front. "So, you're going to be there?"

"If it's okay with you," he clarified. "I don't want anything to distract you."

"I want you there," she said firmly. "And I don't' care what anyone else says."

He grinned over at her. "Okay, good. Then I'll be there."

**A/N: Next chapter-Nationals! I also think that will be the final (or second to last) chapter. Don't want to drag this on too long. Please leave feedback!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: New chapter! This is the first part of the new York portion. I have to say, I LOVED plugging Jesse into this. I really think they should have used him more in that finale. But-even though Finchel reunited I still feel that things were left unfinished. Particularly the fact that Jesse and Rachel were an item and that was never resolved. Plus, Jonathan Groff has been doing a whole lot of press lately. Am I too hopeful in thinking that perhaps he will become a Season 3 regular?**

New York, New York: Part I

Rachel Berry was not amused. New Directions had landed in the Big Apple and while they were supposed to be finishing up their set list, they were instead gallivanting about the city as if they didn't have a single care in the world. She had a care, in fact, two of them. Mr. Schue had specifically told them to write songs and she would not go down with the rest of them when they were invariably found out.

A knock sounded on the hotel room and she rose from her seat, padding over as she tried to guess which New Directions member had returned without their key. When she opened the door, however, she found someone entirely bereft of any key, forgotten or not. In fact, he wasn't even staying in the room.

Jesse smiled wide at her from his relaxed stance just outside the door frame, but his smile dimmed when he saw the tight furrow of her eyebrows. He was adept at tracking her poor moods and could easily detect the oncoming storm.

"What's wrong?" he asked, stepping past her as she moved aside to let him in. She closed the door and spun toward him, her tiny body rearing with frustration as she spat, "They're moonlighting! All of them!"

She looked so agitated that he half expected her to stomp and throw things. "I'm guessing your teammates are not meeting your strict rehearsal regulations?"

"We have nothing to rehearse."

"Oh, well that's good," Jesse said, shoving his hands in his pockets. Although, he had to admit he found it a bit odd that they would be beyond rehearsal. In his rarely humble opinion, there was always work to be done. This was particularly true for New Directions.

"No," she said, stepping forward. "I don't think you get it. We have _nothing_ to rehearse. We have no songs."

"What? But-"

"I was all for the switch to original songs," Rachel said, beginning to pace. Jesse knew from experience that this was never good. She was at her most volatile when she paced. "It worked remarkably well at Regionals but we had weeks to write those. There were edits, rewrites. The competition is tomorrow, Jesse, and we have nothing!"

"You guys will get it done," Jesse said calmly, not wanting to add anything more to her near hysterics. "I'm sure that once they get back they will all be ready to work."

"When they come back," Rachel huffed, shaking her head as she dropped down onto the bed. "They're going to be all keyed up from exploring the city and be entirely unable to work." Rachel laid back onto the bed, resting a hand on her forehead. "Face it Jesse, we messed up."

He laid beside her, turning his head to look over at her. "Well, maybe we can come up with something. Here and now."

"You shouldn't have to," Rachel said immediately. "This isn't your competition anymore."

"No but it's yours," he pressed. "This is important to you, so it's important to me."

"You really want to help?"

He rested a hand on his stomach and said, "I like rhyming."

She smirked. "Is that so?"

"I'm good at it, too."

"A poet who does, indeed, know it," she mused. He chuckled, turning on his side and gently brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. He kissed her softly, thinking of a way he would much rather be spending their time than writing songs. Still, there was work to be done. He pulled away before they could forget themselves in the moment and sat up.

"Alright, time to put some words to paper," he said. He gestured over to the nightstand on her side of the bed where a notebook and several pens laid. "So, pen and paper please?"

* * *

><p>Mr. Schuester was rather surprised to enter the boy's hotel room and find Rachel and Jesse sitting on the bed, scraps of paper strewn around them. Rachel had her hair piled in a high bun, hands seemingly painting some shape in the air as she spewed out words.<p>

"Fight…right…" Rachel was saying, body pitched forward while she worked through something that seemed exceedingly difficult. "Alright!" she announced. "Alright!"

"Uh Rachel," Jesse said, pointing over her shoulder toward Mr. Schuester. "We have some company."

"About time!" she huffed, looking over her shoulder. Her eyes widened when she saw it was Schue and not her wayward team. "Oh, Mr. Schue! I-I was expecting someone else."

"Where's everyone else?" Schue asked. He didn't even begin to work through the ramifications of Rachel and Jesse alone in a hotel room that he had paid for. No, he would leave that one alone.

"Out exploring the city," Rachel said crisply. "I chose to remain here to ensure that at least some progress was made on our set list."

"And I am giving assistance," Jesse added.

"Wait, you guys haven't finished the set list yet?" Schue managed, beginning to feel like there was an elephant on his chest. The competition was tomorrow. How could they not have completed the set list?

"Not to worry Mr. Schue," Rachel said. "Jesse and I have just completed one of the songs. The group number, actually. Would you like to hear it?"

Schue was so taken aback by everything that had just been presented to him that he merely nodded, leaning against the wall as Rachel told him, "The song is called _Light Up The World."_ She looked to Jesse and nodded slightly. Both seemed to breathe in synch before beginning the song.

Whatever daze Schue was in found itself effectively broken by the catchy melody that Rachel and Jesse had created. His foot tapped on the floor along with the beat and by the time the song ended, he had nearly forgotten all the vexation of his team moonlighting their duties and Rachel entertaining a boy in the hotel room alone. Nearly.

"It's good guys," Schue said, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's really good."

"We still have one more to write but-"

She was interrupted by the door opening and the rest of New Directions piling into the room. Puck glowered toward Jesse but was positively pleasant as he looked down at Rachel and said, "Hey there, my little Jewish princess."

"Noah, you have to stop calling me that."

"Not a chance," he said.

"Guys, where were you all?" Schue asked heatedly. "Rachel here told me that you have no songs written!"

"Actually we have one," Rachel interjected, gesturing between her and Jesse. "We wrote one, remember?"

"Wait-Jesse helped out?" Finn asked immediately, disapproval evident in his voice. Rachel frowned and returned, "Yes, Finn, just like he has this entire time."

"Down Hudson," Santana said tiredly. "Your non-chivalrous behavior is even starting to annoy me."

"You guys are not allowed to leave this room until you've finished that last song."

"Don't worry Mr. Schue," Finn supplied, chest puffing out as he assumed the role of leader for once. Apparently Jesse's having a hand in the last song kicked him into high gear because he assured them all, "We can get this next song done in no time."

"That's the spirit," Schue said, although his voice held none of its typical optimism. "So, let's get serious about tomorrow!"

Rachel turned to Jesse and said, "I think it's be best if we did this just as a team."

"Are you saying you don't want me here?" Jesse asked lightly.

"No," she said with a slight eye roll. "Always with the drama."

"Touche, Ms. Berry."

"We'll work better if you and Finn aren't bumping egos."

"I don't need to bump anything," Jesse said quietly. "He's the one with the problem."

"Yes, I know. But still…it's for the win."

Jesse sighed, nodding his head in agreement. He knew him being there wasn't the best idea, not at the moment. While him helping with the song did light a much needed fire under one Finn Hudson's bottom, his prolonged presence would only be destructive.

"Can I take you out for dinner?" he asked.

"If we're done."

"Hey, you wrote the first one," Jesse said. "That warrants you a dinner pass."

She grinned. "Fine, you can take me out for dinner."

"_Fine_," he mimicked. "You make it sound like such a chore."

Laughing she pushed him toward the door and said, "Lobby at seven. No earlier."

"Yes, Ms. Berry. Seven o'clock on the dot."

She gave him a quick kiss and then ushered him from the room, closing the door behind him. She took her spot in the front of the room and planted her hands firmly on her waist. "Alright people, let's do this!"

* * *

><p>Finn did succeed in heading up the new song. He wrote most of it, planting him and Rachel as the leads. It turned out to be a duet, in fact. The words illustrated what was undoubtedly a love song.<p>

She would be strategically leaving this out at dinner with Jesse.

"Rachel," Finn said, pulling her from her thoughts as she waited for seven o'clock to arrive. She looked up at him, gleaning from the careful expression on his face that he was going to play nice.

"Yes Finn?"

"I was going to grab some dinner," he said. "Want to come with?"

"I already have plans," she said crisply. "Jesse is taking me out for dinner."

"Oh right," he said a bit dejectedly. "I should have figured."

"Yes," she said distractedly. The numbers on the electronic clock had just changed from 6:54 to 6:55 and she was ready to leave. "Well, I should head to the lobby."

"Rachel," he said again, stepping toward her as she grabbed her coat. "I don't want things to be awkward between us."

"Well, your overt disapproval of my boyfriend makes that a bit difficult, no?"

"I want us to be friends again," Finn held. "We were friends before."

"A lot has changed."

"Look, I'm sorry about my stuff with Jesse," Finn said. "I just really don't like that kid but-"

"Is this supposed to make me want to be friends with you again?" she asked heatedly. "You know, the more you attack my boyfriend the less-"

"Would you let me finish?" She hesitated for a moment but then crossed her arms over her chest and nodded for him to continue. "I may not like Jesse, but you clearly do. And from what I've seen, I have to admit that he seems like he's good to you."

"He is," she said firmly.

"So, I'll back off."

"Really?" she asked cautiously, not fully believing that he was sincere.

"Yes really," he said. "I'm backing off."

"Okay," she said slowly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "You're backing off."

"I won't try to get in the way."

She nodded, unsure how she felt about this whole declaration based on the fact that she didn't know if she could trust it. "Well," she started. "I should get downstairs."

"Right, um, I'll see you later."

She nodded and then left the room. Finn's words played repeatedly in her head as she took the elevator down. The more she thought about them, the more sincere they became. Could it really be that Finn was gracefully bowing out? Was he even capable of that?

By the time she reached the lobby she decided that he could, indeed, not draw the contrite triangle out any longer and found herself with an almost giddy exuberance. She smiled wide when she saw Jesse and surprised him by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him full on the mouth.

"Well, that's one way to say hello," he said after theirs lips parted. "I'm guessing the song went well?"

Her happiness had nothing to do with the song but she nodded anyway, "Yes, exactly."

He wrapped his arm around her waist and they walked out of the hotel. Her stomach shifted uncomfortably from hunger and she asked, "Where are we going, by the way? I'm starving."

"Are you really?" Jesse asked, looking down at her. "Distended tummy and all?"

"I can't take your humor right now," she told him with a good natured grin. "My very vocal stomach won't allow it."

"I am taking you somewhere you will love," Jesse told her. "Past that, well, you will just have to wait and see."

"A surprise," she cooed. "I love surprises."

"Exactly," he returned, squeezing her side.

"You know the best thing about surprises?" The question was clearly rhetorical in nature as she immediately answered, "Clues. Give me one."

"I can't," Jesse said. "Any clue will give it away."

"Really," she said slowly. "You know Jesse, that in itself is a clue."

He grinned down at her and said, "Yes, I know."

"Okay," he said decisively. "A place so wonderful that even the slightest clue would give it away..." She thought hard, face screwing into a look of deep concentration. Jesse laughed at her expression and said, "Don't over exert yourself, Rach. We'll be there in minutes."

"Ah, location!" she trilled. "I may be from Lima but I do know my New York streets! Considering where we are and the places nearby that…" she trailed off, stopping in her tracks as her mind no doubt landed on their destination. He turned toward her, grinning as he took a firm hold of her hand and tugged her forward.

She barely breathed as they approached Sardi's. She didn't fully believe they were truly going there-she couldn't-until he held the door open for her and said, "After you, Ms. Berry."

She walked in, grabbing onto Jesse's hand the moment he returned to her side. She squeezed his hand tightly and said, "Jesse, this is Broadway legend!"

"Which is exactly why we are here," he told her. He leaned down and kissed her cheek and then whispered, "Might as well scope out our future haunt."

The host led them to their table, a nice two seater nestled in the corner of the restaurant. It was the perfect spot to scope out the rest of the restaurant and Rachel did just that. Her eyes widened when she saw a familiar female rise from a table in the back, pulling her coat over her shoulders.

"Oh my God," Rachel breathed out, hands beginning to tremble. "Jesse, it's Patti Lupone!"

"You mean your mother?" he asked with a small grin, referring to her extraordinary story of Lupone being her mother from the year before. She ignored him completely, conducting a one sided conversation as she weighed whether or not she should approach her. "Oh, Kurt would kill me if I didn't!" she exclaimed. "I-I'm going to do it!"

She shot out from the table, stepping in front of Lupone before she passed. The woman smiled kindly Rachel, no doubt accustomed to being approached as such. "Ms. Lupone," Rachel began demurely. "I just want to tell you that I am such a fan."

Jesse rose beside Rachel and added, "You were flawless in _Gypsy_."

"Oh, well thank you," Lupone said, her eyes roving over Jesse's form. Rachel noticed and didn't know whether to laugh or frown. Jesse clearly was leaning toward the former, his lips pressing into a tight smirk.

"So, are you two visiting the city?" she asked.

"Yes, I have a show choir competition," Rachel told her politely.

"You're a singer then," Lupone gleaned.

"A wonderful singer," Jesse supplied. "Her _Don't Cry For Me Argentina_ nearly rivals your own."

"Jesse," Rachel admonished quickly, shooting him a look. She told the older woman, "Mine is nowhere as accomplished as yours, Ms. Lupone."

She merely smiled at that and said, "Well, I wish you nothing but the best in your future endeavors, Ms…"

"Berry," Rachel stammered. "Rachel Berry."

"Well Ms. Rachel Berry," she said with a small grin. "Good luck at your competition." She glanced over at Jesse through thick eye lashes and offered him a sly smirk before maneuvering around Rachel and exiting the restaurant. Rachel sat down shakily and said, "Did Patti Lupone really just wish me good luck for Nationals?"

Jesse took his seat and said, "Yes, she did. I also believe she gave me the once over. You know, it's a good thing she wasn't your mother. Considering what just transpired, that had the potential to be very uncomfortable."

"I can't believe that just happened," Rachel said.

"You're in New York," he answered with a grin. He loved seeing her so clearly happy. "Anything can happen."

She grinned, reaching across the table for his hand. "So," he said. "Tell me about the song."

"Oh, the song," she said, her eyes losing a bit of their brightness. "It's, um, pretty good."

Jesse picked up on the elusiveness easily and said, "What are you not telling me?"

"Nothing," she said innocently. "It's a good song."

"Who's singing it?"

She looked casually to the side as she quickly said, "Finn and I."

"A duet," he filled in.

"Yes," she said. "A duet."

"What's the song's name?"

She swallowed hard, the name seeming to get lodged in her throat. She finally managed to get out, "_Pretending_."

Jesse knew that Rachel had only one reason to be hesitant in relaying facts on the song. If it were bad, she would simply say so. If it were unabashadly good, she wouldn't be able to stop talking about it. This coyness could only be attributed to one thing. "He wrote you two a love song, didn't he?"

"Not exactly," she returned, trying to think of a different way to describe the song. "It's, uh, sentimental."

"It's a love song," he held. She could see that he was irritated. He even pulled his hand away.

"Look, it's just one song." He didn't seem convinced. He looked away from her, jaw tightening. "And you trust me, right?"

This caught his attention and he held her gaze and he said, "Of course I do."

"Then trust me on this," she told him. "It may be a love song for him, but for me it is nothing but words. Meaningless words. And besides, before I met you tonight Finn said he was going to lay off us."

"Really?" Jesse asked with disbelief.

"I was suspicious at first too," she said. "But he said he could see that we cared about each other. You don't have to worry about Finn, Jesse."

"I know," Jesse said, reclaiming her hand. "I know."

"We're arguing at Sardi's," she said with a frown. "I don't think this is allowed."

He laughed a bit and agreed, "No, I don't think it is."

"No more talk of Finn tonight," she decreed. "No New Directions, either."

"You're right." He looked around at the restaurant and said, "We'll talk about our future here. I wonder which one will become _our_ table."

"Definitely not a booth," she said confidently. "I hate booths."

The discomfort of their minor argument forgotten, they passed the rest of dinner discussing their future New York endeavors.

**A/N: I feel like this ended a bit abruptly but I had to cut it off somewhere. Next chapter will have the actual competition and then a bit back at McKinley. I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on this! I definitely had fun putting Jesse into the episode and I hope you enjoyed reading it, too!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: So, this is the final chapter. I want to thank all of the wonderful readers who have been on this journey with me. This started as a litte one shot and quickly grew into one of my favorite stories to write. It has been a joy sharing this with you :D Without further adieu, the final installment of Rolling In The Deep.**

Something Special

Rachel felt her nerves mount as she stood in the back of the auditorium, watching Sunshine Corazon perform a moving ballad. It had heart and soul. It was a damn good performance, led by a damn good performer. Immediately Rachel began to question her decision to step away from the spotlight and let her teammates have equal time at the front. Should she have taken over like she always had before? With her at the helm, she knew they had a chance. Now, though, with everyone taking turns she wasn't so sure.

She felt him beside her before he even said a word. She reached for his hand, sighing softly when she felt his fingers slide along her own. "They're wondering where you are," he said. "Puck even warned me that if they found you in a waste bin out back that he would personally show me why he had landed in juvie."

Rachel grinned slightly. That was why she had stepped back and let the others shine, too. Because they were good, caring people. And with time she had learned they were good, caring performers, as well. She turned toward him and reached up, sliding an arm around his neck and tugging his face to hers. The kiss was short and then she murmured, "Thank you."

"I don't know what I did for that," he said with a grin. "But I'm glad that I did it."

"I should head back to the team," Rachel said. "I have a vague idea of what Puck was talking about and it's not pretty."

His slid an arm around her waist, rubbing her side while he dipped his mouth to her ear. "You are going to be fantastic up there, Rach. All of you are."

"You think?"

"I know," he said. "You're not having doubts, are you?"

"No," she said with a soft smile. "Not anymore."

They returned to New Direction's holding room together, Rachel's arrival drawing the team's attention. Puck nodded his head toward Jesse and said, "Alright, you're off the hook, St James."

"Are you okay, Rachel?" Mr. Schuester asked, walking toward her. It wasn't like her to disappear right before a performance. She nodded and told him, "Just checking out our competition."

"And?" Artie asked.

"They're good," Rachel admitted. "But we're better."

"It's a big solo, isn't it?" Tina said from the back. Rachel nodded, watching Tina and Mike exchange a knowing look. Judges always liked a rousing solo. If the vocalist was talented it could be the most memorable number of an evening. Rachel had been proof of that. But, she was convinced that New Directions had something that not even a solo could offer. They had chemistry. After all they had gone through together there was a raw energy that the entire team fed from. They had the type of onstage chemistry that was palpable, infectious. Even more, it was irresistible.

She explained this to the group and Lauren said, "Damn right we're irresistible. We're going to rock this."

"That's the spirit guys!" Mr. Schuester said excitedly. Their time slot was nearing and the coach was visibly shaking with anticipation. "You are all going to be fantastic out there. Just give it your all!"

Time moved on and before they knew it a stage hand was at their door telling them that they had five minutes before they were on. For all of her previous nerves, Rachel felt a strange calm settle. Jesse noticed this and said, "You have your game face on."

"It's Nationals," she answered simply. "Is there ever a better time for it?"

He grinned, sliding his arms around her waist as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "No, there is not. And Mr. Schuester is right. You are going to be fantastic."

"You know, I'm kind of excited."

"You should be."

"Come on, Rachel," Finn said from the doorway, motioning for her to follow. She gave Jesse one more quick kiss and then followed Finn out toward the auditorium. On the way Finn turned toward her and said, "Listen Rachel, are we okay?"

"What?"

"Look, I know I've pissed you off with my opinions on you and Jesse." Rachel didn't argue that. "But we've always been there for each other with performances. I, uh, I need to know that you have my back for this."

She was struck by his words and said, "Of course I do."

"Okay, good because I wouldn't want to lose you. I still care about you, you know. No matter what is happening with us, I always will."

Despite everything they had been through she admitted, "Me too. So, you ready to kill it out there?"

He smiled, happy with how the exchange had ended. "Yeah, how about you?"

"I have a good feeling," she admitted.

"Alright guys," Puck said, careening between them and draping one arm over each set of shoulders. "So, here's the plan. If at any moment you feel we're kind of sucking, just look at me and I'll bust out these child-making-hips." He did a few experimental juts with them. "No man or woman can resist."

Rachel laughed lightly and told him, "We wouldn't want to overwhelm them, Noah. And besides, we are not going to suck."

"Yeah Puckerman, how about you keep those delicious hips for me?" Lauren proposed, falling into stride with the three of them. Behind her Santana rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but smirk. The stage came into view and nervous energy bounced off all eleven New Direction members.

"Alright guys," Puck said, chin jutted up in defiance. "Let's do this."

They took their spots, Mr. Schuester standing to the side while he looked on like a proud father. Secretly, Schue thought he enjoyed the competitions more from the wings than he did when he was onstage. There was no disputing that performing was a rush. Even more, though, was watching these mismatched kids who didn't seem to fit anywhere melt into the stage as if they were born there. He would never forget the first time he had seen them together singing _Don't Stop Believin' _in McKinley's auditorium. That day had been nothing short of revelatory. And now after countless more stages and performances, they finally made it to Nationals.

Rachel knew the moment the curtain began to rise. Even more than the rustling of the velvet curtains, she had felt the pull in her stomach, the itch in her palms. It was like a first date, exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. However, just like nerves quelled at the first touch, first smile, Rachel experienced that same softening when she felt the eyes of the audience. They were there for her, for New Directions-and they were going to get one hell of a show.

The opening notes played and she looked to the wings quickly, suppressing a grin when she found Jesse watching her. Turning her attention back to the audience, she sang the first verse of their song. The performance started off slow, gaining momentum as their voices blended. Rachel felt the energy-the pure joy-and knew without any doubt that they had it. They had the audience's attention, their heart, and they were going to get the trophy, too.

Rachel couldn't help but smile as she looked to her teammates. They had come a long way, gotten past a lot of heartache and partner swapping, and somehow come out on the other side relatively unscathed. It was pretty amazing, but only proved to show how deep their bond ran. They were connected by something deeper than friendships of convenience. After two years of overcoming the odds, they had grown closer than any of them realized.

The song ended and they were suspended in silence for one spectacular moment while the audience and team both held their breath. Once the clapping began it rose to a crescendo, washing over the team in rolls. They exited the stage, executing boisterous waves toward the audience as their final send off. Once off stage, the team descended on each other with embraces and rushed sentiments. Caught in the moment, Finn wrapped his arms around Rachel and his mouth darted toward hers. She froze, but then he stopped. Checking himself, Finn pulled away and said, "I'm sorry, I-"

He was cut off by another teammate pulling his arm to yell out another exclamation of congratulations. Rachel shook her head slightly and turned, looking for the one person who had yet to congratulate her. She found him directly behind her, glaring over her shoulder at who she could only assume was Finn.

"Did he try to kiss you?"

"Yes," Rachel said. "But he stopped himself."

"Oh, well how virtuous of him."

"He was caught up in the moment," Rachel said, stepping forward and slipping her arms around his waist. "That's all."

"Sometimes I think you cut him too much slack."

She glanced back and murmured, "Maybe I do. But this team is my family, him too. He'll get over me." She turned back to Jesse and smiled slightly. "I got over him, after all."

Jesse's face changed slightly and he mirrored her grin, dropping his mouth to hers. "You're right," he murmured against her skin. "By the way, have I told you yet how breathtaking you were out there?"

"No, you haven't," she replied.

His arms relaxed around her waist. "Rachel Berry, you were positively brilliant on that stage. I would be shocked if you were not offered a Broadway part instantly."

She pressed her head to his chest, her restless heart slowing to the steady beat of his own. "I'm so glad you're here," she mumbled.

"Me too." He pulled away slightly and pressed his lips to hers again. He drew an arm from her waist and gently touched her cheek with his fingertips. "You should be with your team, Rach."

"I don't want to leave you alone," she said softly.

"I'll go talk with my supposed father," Jesse joked.

"You sure you don't mind?"

He kissed her forehead. "Go be with your team."

She gave him one last kiss before turning and rushing over to her team. Sam Evan's arm found its way around her waist as Kurt grabbed her from the side. She laughed, hugging both of them back. Looking around, she felt the happiest that she had in ages. She glanced over to Mr. Schuester and saw him and Jesse talking amicably. He felt her gaze and looked over at her, sending her a small wink. With her team surrounding her, Jesse only a few feet away, Rachel found herself not caring a whole lot if they won. In fact, she didn't care at all. For her entire life, all she had ever wanted was to be a part or something special. She saw with stunning clarity that winning Nationals or not, she had finally found that something special.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! Would LOVE to hear your thoughts :D **


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